“The secret to being a bore is to tell everything.” – Voltaire
I would go one step further and say that the secret to being an epic bore is to tell everything, and tell it in a hundred different ways.
One of the things I’ve lost patience for, since becoming an adult, is having to listen to people yammering on for longer than they should. It’s amazing how many people go on and on when they could just spit out whatever it is that they have to say, and move on.
I’m obviously a fan of long, drawn-out conversations when it involves a juicy discussion with a friend about, say, a date – or anything else that requires extensive analysis. Obviously, these types of discussions are exempt from my wrath. I’m also forgiving of the “drunken repeat”, where someone rehashes the same point over and over at a party because we’ve all been sipping on the sauce. That’s usually cute.
I am fresh out of tolerance, however, for people who feel like it’s acceptable to assault me with lengthy accounts of dull things that don’t require lengthy accounts.
Do you remember in high school (and college or university), when the really good teachers and professors used to make it crystal clear that the essay they were assigning had better be succinct and boast quality over quantity?
I currently have regular contact with several people (ahem, professionally) who never learned that lesson – and who are, in fact, so thick that they likewise are incapable of reading between the lines in anyone else’s musings as well. Conversations with these people last for centuries. With one particular idiot, I literally let him think I agree with him half the time just so the conversation can end, because listening to him is absolutely excruciating.
It would be funny if my life was a sitcom and I could throw snark at these nimrods – but alas, I am stuck being diplomatic and quietly homicidal.
I’m starting to see why people give it all up to go sell seashells on the seashore.