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Friday, July 17, 2009

Something Better for Your Lips to Do (or "Kiss My Ass")

You might recall one of my earliest rants – like, back in the 70’s – about the tenacious mail lady at work who I might have, in my way, snidely suggested was a bit needy or bothersome; insisting on chatting me up every day, through rain, snow, sleet or hail. Well, Mail Lady caught me in the elevator once again this afternoon. Talk about a “full circle" moment.

This is it,” she sang, giddy to see me, and without holding for my response before pressing on. “It’s my very last day on the job. I’m officially retiring. I’ve worked for the U.S. Postal Service for thirty-five years now. Thirty-five years! I’m turning in this tired old mail bag and hangin’ up these darn grey pants,” she said, holding back a giggle for having almost slipped and said something more than “darn”. "I’m finally gonna enjoy my life!

She went on to tell me that she was moving home to Georgia with her husband. Georgia’s where her daughter and grandkids live, and she hasn’t seen them in over a year! She talked about the importance of family, and how we all get so caught up in the daily grind that we tend to lose sight of those things which are truly important in life. “You can have millions in the bank,” she assured me, “but in the end, it all comes back to Family. Your family is all you got.” And as she spoke, I must admit, I began to realize something about myself: I still really don’t give a fuck about this woman. Why is she still talking to me?

Why do people feel the need to talk to you in an elevator?? I suppose it feels awkward or rude for some to be in such confined quarters with a perfect stranger and not force conversation. Not me. I’m happy to enjoy the ride in silence, and would rather not spend the ten or eleven flights racking my brain to invent mindless chit-chat for someone I’ve never met and will likely never see again. And personally, I’ve been in much tighter quarters in my day, with entire groups of strangers, and been perfectly content to not say a word… my shower, for instance.

Why don't we stop all this small talk??? Like this guy at work. (His name is Jason, but for discretion’s sake, we’ll call him Susan.) Why does Susan feel he needs to talk to me about the weather every day? Like it's "our thing." Clearly, the conversation is not flowing easy between me and Susan if we’re relying solely on a natural phenomenon as globally inclusive as the weather to bond us. By definition, weather is the natural state of the atmosphere as it affects the entire planet. Susan and I are literally reaching into thin air to try and find the common denominator between us. Maybe we should just let it be, Jason Susan. Otherwise, what’s next...?

Hey, Randy! Nice weather today, huh?
Yeah, Susan. Gorgeous. Hey! How’s the oxygen working out for you?
Still breathing the stuff, Randy. Can't get enough of it. You still eat food?
Ya know… When I’m hungry, Susan…When I’m hungry.

ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I'm over it.

Have a great weekend, Bloggities.
Please don’t talk to me unless it's absolutely necessary.

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