Small Talk is the Devil (Excuse my rant...)
There is one thing in life that I truly
hate with a passion. Small Talk.
In elevators, waiting on the elevator
any scenario where I can be engaged in small talk I really try to avoid.
You get all those questions about the
weather and the ever present:
“So, Thank God it’s Friday.” Comments.
I just want to scream
“I KNOW ITS FRIDAY, I DON’T GIVE A DAMN
THAT IT’S GETTING COLD. JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME RIDE THE ELEVATOR TO
MY FLOOR IN PEACE!”
Some people just can’t take the silence
that insures when there are strangers in their vicinity.
Well, I can. Small talk is just a conversation
about nothing that no one cares about.
How do I always get stuck in those
moments that leave me vulnerable to small talk?
One prime place to get captured with no
place to go is the Elevator. My sister does not ride the elevator because she
is claustrophobic, but I would take the stairs if it means no small talk.
Those people are always finding
meaningless things to talk about. When I used to work at the Health Dept, I
would always get stuck in the elevator with the person that is in a bright and
cheery mood. They want to talk about how cold/hot/cool it is outside. They want
to know where you bought that coat. They
feel the need to ask (if you are pregnant) is this your first child and if you
have any more at home.
SHUT THE HELL UP!
You know who are good for small talk?
Women.
I can get in an elevator and men will
not say a word. More often than not they
may make one comment and that is it.
Women like to talk and give follow up questions. I just would really like it if they just shut
up sometimes.
That was one thing that I hated about
being pregnant. There are so many people
that come up to you wanting to touch your belly and make comments about your
pregnancy.
Some people say that I am mean, but I
just like to keep to myself sometimes.
When I walk pass people on the sidewalk,
I avoid eye contact. Eye Contact makes
people feel like they are obligated to speak to you. I refuse to let them pin me with that
obligation. I don’t look at them.
So if you see me in an elevator or
waiting in line or in the grocery aisle.
Please resist the urge to talk to me.
I
know little old lady that you want to tell me how cute my baby is and cashier
you want to begin to tell me how hard your day is, but just know that most of
the time I do not give a damn and would really like to spend these last couple
minutes in the elevator, in the store not listening to you.
Man I hate small talk!
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