Somebody shoot me, please???

I think I discovered my mental achilles heel recently.  Verbal torture.  We had a visit from a salesperson recently.  She was a lovely woman, polite, smiling and a good firm handshake.  She just couldn't shut up.  She talked incessantly and at a pitch that very soon had a bone in my skull vibrating in harmonic with it.  Without a word of a lie I was literally starting to feel nauseous.  My heart rate started to ramp up and I felt like someone was juicing me with adrenaline.  All because of this woman's nattering.  It was unbelievable.  It's happened to me before but not in a long while.  And what do you do?  Short of telling her to put a sock in it, I was stuck.  Compounding the problem she, like most people I've met who can't clam up, seemed incapable of picking up on the not even close to subtle body language my wife and I were shooting her.  Eye contact down to zero, no verbal response to her talking, no head nods, complete indifference.  Didn't stop her.  She was a champion talker. And when it was over it wasn't over cleanly.  It never is. We got her up from the table...more talk (standing)...we got her into her coat...more chatter (at door)...we got her out to her car...final verbal salvo at open car door.  When she finally left I ran screaming into the house.  The kids thought I'd lost it. In fact, I nearly had.

Comments

[Daniel J. Christie]

Not counting the 'we's Neil, you used 16 personal pronouns in that short rant. Did the salesperson talk abot HERself that much? If so, the rant is well deserved. If not...