I HATE Small Talk!! 

The Torture of Talking to my Family during the Holidays

by HogWild

Spending time with my family for the holiday reminded me that they are really exciting people.

Like my mom. She can talk. She is super duper interesting. Just give her a subject. ANY subject. And she can talk about it for days. Doesn’t even matter if she knows anything about the topic. She can talk about it. Now that’s interesting.

But mainly, she brings up her own topics. Stuff you wouldn’t ordinarily find fascinating – like which supermarket has the best price on skim milk. Or a detailed description of the faces the dog makes. I didn’t realize how interesting this stuff was until the rest of my family joined in. Just when I thought the 

flames of this red hot conversation were dying down, my Uncle Stanley tossed in THIS log to keep the fire going all night, “The weather sure got cold all of a sudden.”

Whoa! A conversation conflagration. Temperature change. Sinuses. Runny nose. New coat. Wonderful sale. Best store for bargains. Hate traffic. Terrible. Agreed. Family Resolution 1874b: Traffic in this city is awful.

Meeting adjourned? No. The agenda still includes:

“I bought new socks.”

“Little Marc is growing so tall”

“Our neighbor died. She was 92. A nice lady.”

AaaawAAAAAAAAH!!! I hate small-talk. SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!!! Who cares what your dog ate for breakfast?!!!! I don’t CARE that the snack machine ate your dollar!! I don’t CARE about your pets, your pedicures, your coupon for popcorn, your recipe for lemon pepper chicken, the price of paprika! I don’t CARE!!!

I CAN’T STAND small talk! Talk about something IMPORTANT – like video games! Or sports! Or Jennifer Garner’s breasts.

(Interesting stuff):

Am I a child because I can’t make small-talk? I refuse to ask questions when I don’t really care about the answer. But everyone does it. It’s polite at a party. “What do you do? A software engineer. Fascinating. Now I will present a follow-up question to allow you to pontificate while I think about boobies. Then I will make another mindless inquiry while I think about bbq chicken wings.”

So boring! At a party, if we all kept it real, it would go like this:

Me: “Hi, nice to meet you. Do you know any attractive women that might want to mount my meat pole?"

You: "Well, as a matter of fact, I do. Here’s a picture of my sister."

Me: "Thank you. Allow me to buy you a drink."

(SIGH) But in reality, it’s more like:

Me: "So what do you do?"

You (speaking like a robot): "I’m a research analyst."

Me: "Really. That’s fascinating. What industry are you in?"

You, the robot: "Pharmaceuticals."

Me: "That’s great. Do you know any attractive women that might want to taste my flavor-injector? Ouch. You know, it’s not polite to stab. I hope you don’t plan to reuse that toothpick after it’s been in my eye."

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