3 Ways to Avoid Needless Chit Chat With the Useless

By Roode

You hear the old expression, "Life is short. Live life to the fullest," flung around as if it were a sage-like advice. Define short? Short in comparison to what? If that's coming form a 90 year old, should we punch him in the face? He's a damn liar. His life was plenty long. Chances are he's wasted a good bit of it and is just bitching and moaning that he's fertilizer waiting for a bag. How can you live every minute of every day to the fullest? People have to take shits. Tell me how you live life to the fullest when sitting on the throne, making splashes with what used to be breakfast?

Still time well spent.

Alright, let's assume I agree on some level. In the grand scheme of things, I suppose life is short. It just feels painfully long and aggravating. So, if we're supposed to zip from one fulfilling life experience to the next, why does there seem to be a conspiracy to throw up as many hurdles as possible? Let's be realistic here and apply this to normal, everyday life. You may not be running with the bulls in Spain, but you still have an agenda. It could be a simple one; get through the work day without shoving a stapler up someone's ass. Perhaps, it's to buy food or simply to go from point A to point B. Most of us aren't asking too much from life. Most of us are happily satisfied if we manage to buy a bag of Doritos without a major clusterfuck to take a dump all over our plans. We feel tip top then.

That's right, Jackson. Everything is a little bit of alright.

You can bet a sheep's anus (a delicacy in Scotland), that there will always be someone there to throw a monkey wrench into your gears. It might not be intentional, but it still burns through time you'll never get back. It looks innocent enough, mindless chit chat and such. After a while, the barrage of needless banter starts to feel like slogging through wet cement. All you want to do is buy some friggin beer and porn! A task that should only take five minutes is stretched out to 45, because you're bum rushed by useless yammering from complete strangers. It's like quick sand. The more you try to get out, the more you sink. Sure, you try to be polite and send subtle signals like slowly moving to the door, looking at your watch, or setting your pants on fire. The problem is, some of these wonder-tards just keep raining down their conversational holocaust. It must stop! Here are a few quick tips to completely slam the door on some asshat spewing verbal diarrhea.


Tip 1: Appear TOO interested and excited
So there you are; in line at the liquor store buying a few bottles of Boones. Then, BAM! All of a sudden the 65 year old douche that smells like day old Cheetos behind you starts yakking about some bullshit his grand kid did, said, or pantomimed. You look ahead and see the line is at a dead stop, because some fuck face is buying a case of Cisco and is paying by check. There are, at least, 12 people in front of you and not a damn one has less than 6 bottles of low grade alcohol/medium grade paint thinner. The old guy yaps and yaps and YAPS. He doesn't take a breath. Little Billy did the cutest thing. Billy loves cupcakes. Billy's mother and father are actually brother and sister. There's no end in sight. Before you smash one of the bottles of delicious malt beverage over his head and piss all over his stained cardigan, try something totally unexpected. Be uncomfortably interested in what he's saying.

Really? Tell me more, friend!

"But, Roode, " you're saying, "That will just encourage him." Sit down and shut up. True, polite "Oh reallys" and "Uh-huhs" will send him the message that you're, at least, feigning interest. If you want to derail his verbal stoning you have to freak him the fuck out. Turn completely around. Don't just turn half way. Do an about face, damn it. Get uncomfortably close. I'm talking less than three inches from his wrinkled, blubbery face. Stop blinking. This is important. In fact, open your eyes as wide as you can. The wider the better. Lean in and let him get a good face full of your crazy.

Get completely Christopher Lloyd on his ass!

Employ William Shatner like overacting. You'll want to be as loud as you can too. Loud and obscene. Act like everything he says is mind blowing. "NO WAY?" "Billy ate all the cookies?" "HOLY SHIT! Macaroni art?" "Mother fucker, that goddamn kid can count?! Son of a bitch!" Trust me, if the clerk doesn't call the police, that old bastard will drop his bottle of Old Grand Dad and run out of the store. Well, hobble out of the store at any rate.

Tip 2: Inappropriately touch yourself
Note I said inappropriately touch YOURSELF. So, don't get any strange ass ideas. We want to confine the blast radius and keep out of the sexual offenders database.

You get out of the liquor store with your bottles of piss wine intact. The clerk didn't even charge you full price, because he just wanted you to get the hell out of his store. Whatever. Eat shit Apu. Was that racist? No. The clerk is actually painfully Irish. I call him, Apu, for the sake of irony. So, no racism here.

See? Just your run of the mill alcohol slinging Mick.

You get to the parking lot and briskly trot to your car. It's time to get the fuck out of Dodge. Your lunch hour is almost over and you have to get back to the office to do some serious drinking. All of a sudden, you're blindsided by some chump you met while somewhere at sometime in some stage of inebriation. He comes over and lets loose a shit storm of mouth noise. You can't jump in the car and gun it, because he's standing juuuust close enough to the door to prevent you from slamming it shut. You make a fist, betting this guy will go down like a wet sack of shit. Wait! There's another way.

Or a bag of wet cement, if it's easier to find.

Out of no where, feel yourself up. I'm serious. You want to leave and the only way to break off this mind rotting conversation is to create such awkwardness and disgust that this guy doesn't ever approach you again. In fact, his descendants will steer clear from yours. This is how out and out fucked up batshit crazy you have to get.

Begin by gently caressing your chest. Then move your hands to start squeezing your own ass. Gyrate a little. Don't be shy. Might as well go the whole nine now. That's it, make him feel the pain. Keep a straight face. Don't let on that you're even aware this is happening. Grab your crotch like it's trying to get away. Stick your hand down your pants and keep it there. This conversation won't last long.

Warning: This will, in no way, work if you are Hayden Panettiere

Tip 3: Talk to the voices in your head
You read that right. In times where sheer awkwardness, obscenity, and inappropriate self touch won't work or aren't possible one has to pull out all the stops.

You finally make it back to the office, your brown paper bag of Boones held firmly under your arm. Your office and it's secret wet bar are waiting. Hoping no one notices you're a little late from lunch (it's 3:oo, lunch ran a teeny bit over) you make a mad dash around the corner. Like a crash test dummy hitting the concrete wall, Barry verbally body checks you. Fuck. Barry. He spends most of his day going from office to office shooting the shit with anyone and everyone. How the hell does he get any work done? Sure, you really aren't an office dynamo, using the George Costanza method of "looking annoyed makes you look busy." Still, you're not bothering coworkers by ear raping them with pointless bullshit.

You probably won't be shirtless, though. This is your call.

It's time to drop the Hiroshima bomb of conversation stoppers. Trust me, in the long run, it will be best. Right in the middle of Barry's looooooong and pointless story about how he noticed the 1023Y form was mistakenly in the slot for the 1024Y let it go. Start off slowly. Blink uncontrollably. look, first, to your left. Then, look to your right. Blurt out a "Shhhhhhhhh! I'm talking to Barry. Not now!" At the very least, Barry should see that something's a little off.

Now, employ full crazy. Ask Barry to hold on for one second. Turn around to the wall and begin holding a sidebar conversation with it. "Hey man, can you believe that mix up? Barry sure saved the day." Break out in laughter, as if the wall replied. Pat it on the "back" for a quip well said. Look at Barry and say something to the tune of, "Man, he's so right. "

It may not look like much, but this wall is one hell of a conversationalist.

Then, look at the wall on the other side. Shake your head vigorously. "No!" You are wrong!" "What the fuck is wrong with you man? Barry is standing right here!" Apologize to Barry and assure him that that wall in no way speaks for you or the other wall.

This wall, however, is a cock.

Ask Barry if he would like to get drinks after work. Just you, him, and the wall. Not the other wall. He's a dick. The good wall. You'll find that Barry Shuffles of to Buffalo to put as much distance between you and your talkative walls as humanly possible.

Some of you may accuse me of taking antisocial-ness to the extreme. I am a firm believer that 85% of conversation during the day can be eliminated. It's all useless. It's crap. The remaining 15% only needs to pertain to alcohol, food, sex, television, and money. This is for efficiency's sake. It's the next step in human evolution.

Sincerely,
Roode

P.S.: Look for "How to Effectively Derail a Conversation With Your Boss"coming soon. Which means, whenever I get around to it.