Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Dilemma
I’m trying to figure out a way to cut awkward small talk out of my life. Every morning as I walk into the gym, I have to pass a security guard and have roughly the same awkward conversation with him.
GUARD: Oh, you better get a move on, going to be late for work!
ME: Ha ha ha, yup, just couldn’t get out of bed today.
GUARD: Well, you should be tired, it is [insert day of the week here].
ME: All day. Have a good one.
GUARD: You too.
So, obviously, this is painful. Especially coming at seven in the morning. But the hard part is figuring out what to replace it with. Silence wouldn’t work.
GUARD: Running late for that workout!
ME:
GUARD: You think you’re better than me? (sharpening knives) How ‘bout I cut that purdy little tongue right out of your mouth?
Trying to say something profound would be strange and random on my part, and certainly not profound.
GUARD: Get a late start this morning?
ME: Well, what is time, really? Just another sad conceit man has invented in the desperate quest to measure out some value to his fleeting and pathetic existence. Years? Millennia? In the history of the world they are all but the flicker of an eyelash.
GUARD: Er, I’m going to go get some coffee.
Nor do I particularly desire the friendship level jump that would come should I attempt to know this gentleman better.
GUARD: Oh, it’s already 7:30, you better get going!
ME: But I’d rather stay here and chat with you. How are things at home? Do you feel fulfilled in this job? Or maybe we should start with your childhood. Would you say your parents were affectionate people?
GUARD: (carefully training his weapon on my skull) I think I said to get going.
Since I have no use of my own for small talk, maybe I should just take the opportunity for some clever product placement.
GUARD: You’re late!
ME: Yep. And ladies, when you’re late there’s no pregnancy test doctors trust more than Clear Blue Easy.
You know what? I’ll stick with the small talk. The weather and everyone’s health may not be interesting, but at least they won’t get me punched.
I’m trying to figure out a way to cut awkward small talk out of my life. Every morning as I walk into the gym, I have to pass a security guard and have roughly the same awkward conversation with him.
GUARD: Oh, you better get a move on, going to be late for work!
ME: Ha ha ha, yup, just couldn’t get out of bed today.
GUARD: Well, you should be tired, it is [insert day of the week here].
ME: All day. Have a good one.
GUARD: You too.
So, obviously, this is painful. Especially coming at seven in the morning. But the hard part is figuring out what to replace it with. Silence wouldn’t work.
GUARD: Running late for that workout!
ME:
GUARD: You think you’re better than me? (sharpening knives) How ‘bout I cut that purdy little tongue right out of your mouth?
Trying to say something profound would be strange and random on my part, and certainly not profound.
GUARD: Get a late start this morning?
ME: Well, what is time, really? Just another sad conceit man has invented in the desperate quest to measure out some value to his fleeting and pathetic existence. Years? Millennia? In the history of the world they are all but the flicker of an eyelash.
GUARD: Er, I’m going to go get some coffee.
Nor do I particularly desire the friendship level jump that would come should I attempt to know this gentleman better.
GUARD: Oh, it’s already 7:30, you better get going!
ME: But I’d rather stay here and chat with you. How are things at home? Do you feel fulfilled in this job? Or maybe we should start with your childhood. Would you say your parents were affectionate people?
GUARD: (carefully training his weapon on my skull) I think I said to get going.
Since I have no use of my own for small talk, maybe I should just take the opportunity for some clever product placement.
GUARD: You’re late!
ME: Yep. And ladies, when you’re late there’s no pregnancy test doctors trust more than Clear Blue Easy.
You know what? I’ll stick with the small talk. The weather and everyone’s health may not be interesting, but at least they won’t get me punched.
