Merry Death

Hello, please tell me everything about you.

I am the kind of person that everyone talks to. Phil seems to think its because I ask or act interested when they tell me something. I figure that if someone is taking the time to tell me something about themselves, they are in need of an outlet. I will be that person.

Today, prime example, we went out to eat. The waiter was an overly friendly 40ish man. He commented on my 'body art' (ugh) and proceeded to tell me about the fact that he isn't eating meat due to his internet girlfriend, he is going through a divorce from his wife, his girlfriend won't meet him until she loses many pounds. He deduced she was about my size (although he commented that there was nothing bad about my size -- gee thanks.) He also told me about his twin 8 yrs olds, 5 yr old and stepdaughter that he practically raised alone.

This is the kind of crap I get all the time. People just need to tell me their business. The real problem doesn't come when I am stuck talking to someone about themselves, but when I retain all this crap later. Every time someone I don't know tells me facts about their life, it pushes aside a memory in my brain. I lose part of me, I swear on it.

If we only use 10% of our brain, 4% of mine is full of useless facts about the convenience store clerk (works 2 jobs and has 3 kids), postal worker (deaf in one ear), and Freecycle Lady (sews for a living, can't get around well, etc), not to mention many many more.

The good news in all this? Phil tells me tonight that this is one of his favorite things about me, that I listen and (mostly) care.

posted by Metalmeredith @ 7:09 PM