I really love to talk. I’m the girl you see at parties skating around breaking all the ice, alleviating any awkwardness, sparking conversation with anyone and everyone. I wasn’t freely granted the gift of the gab; I think it’s a learned skill which I showed an aptitude for, and have worked hard at perfecting. When I talk to people my brain is constantly ticking over, I assess their emotional state and formulate a series of questions and responses that are attuned to their headspace, easily digestible. I rack my memory for sage advice which might put them at ease and relay comparable anecdotes, to comfort them and assure them I’ve experienced similar things. I know this sounds like a lot of work, or like I’m a sociopath, but it’s fun for me. People are my passion and I like to lend a good ear.
The trouble is now I expect that same level of considered conversation from everyone, and there are some people out there with really poor fucking chat. These days my tolerance for terrible talkers is dreadfully low. Listed below are a few of my pet peeves:
One word responders. Yep, those dead shit conversation killers that either; can’t be arsed to formulate an adequate response or have a limited AF vocabulary and zero social skills. These basic bitches belong together in monosyllable hell.
The Me Me Me’s. Nothing worse than narcissistic natter, where one person proceeds to prattle on about themselves like they’re in their own one man show. I know we all do this from time to time, a much needed vent turns into self-involved word vomit; but it’s really easy to fix. At the end of your rant, add a simple “How about you?” it ain’t that hard.
The Story Topper/Name Dropper. I hate it when idle chitchat is turned into a competition. We all have that one friend who is constantly one-upping everyone’s stories. “Oh your Dad’s a carpenter? My dad's Jesus he’s pretty much the most famous carpenter”. Tranquilo fool, nobody likes to be disparaged and knowing famous people doesn't make you cool.
The emotionally devoid. When you spill your guts or share something deeply personal, these fuckers dismiss what you say entirely or cut you with some heartless remark or patronising statement. They deliver smart arse one-liners, or facetious offhanded comments that fester inside your brain for days, weeks, months like a fat worm inside a perfect apple. If you’re on the spectrum, or have some sort of avoidant personality disorder; this type of behaviour is understandable, uncontrollable even, but people who are callous for no legitimate reason are just jerks.
Shoulder surfers. These dickwads are almost worse than the emotional retards described above, because they feign interest and appear to be engaged, but when it's your turn to talk they immediately start surveying the room looking for someone, or something better. They get your hopes up and make you feel as though you’re headed for a healthy discussion then dog you at end. It’s like foreplay without the sex.
I’m not saying I’m perfect, I’m guilty of committing all these dirty deeds. In fact, I do something which may be considered much worse, the Rachel Cormack special: the bomb of devastation. Everyone is enjoying some jovial bubbly banter, then BANG, I drop some fucked up story about a dead body my cop brother in-law told me. It can’t be helped, I genuinely like talking about heavy shit, so deal. Besides, I find it’s a good way to filter out shitty friends, if you can’t handle my deep dialogue which ranges from periods to paedophiles I don’t really want to talk to you. I’m done with superficial shit talk, I want a gutsy exchange or meaningful tête-à-tête that hits me in the feels.
And that’s the double truth Ruth.