TALK, TALK, TALK

I admit I cringe every time Anna is in my presence. She is a nice enough person. She has one of the most interesting life stories of anyone I know. She not a bad person at all! She is just a talker. And she does not know when to stop talking.

If I am at the puzzle room, she does not bother me. She comes, sits and talks until I leave or someone else comes. I do not believe she knows how to end a conversation, or take a breath. If you would want to respond (which is really not necessary) you would have to jump in and interrupt. The occasional head nod, grunt or “ahem” will satisfy.

If I would actually listen I would know more about her family than I want to. I really don’t want to know much. She talks about the people she has met throughout the day. People she has gone to school with grown up with and worked with. Since she stops and talks to everyone she knows hundreds — maybe even thousand. Dare I say millions — feels like it? AND she wants to tell everyone she knows everything there is to know about everyone she knows. I am tearing my hair out as I write.

She popped in yesterday. I called at the door for her to come in, but had to go answer because she did not come in. She was talking to my neighbor while knocking at my door. I knew I was in trouble as soon as I saw her. She came to give me information I needed to make labels for her bazaar baking. It was written down (as I requested). I asked about the other things she is to provide: like the price she is charging and how many labels she needed. The whole thing should have taken two minutes. Maybe four minutes with some niceties thrown in.

Forty-five minutes later I gave up trying to hint at her leaving and told her I had to go to the restroom and stood up. She still went on another five minutes. I actually went into the bathroom, closed the door before she would leave. It made me miss a show I would have liked to watch. I now know that hinting is insufficient.

She called back today to ask about an item on the information sheet. We had covered it last night. The call was unnecessary. I don’t know why, but I have never liked telephones. To me they are for passing on information or making arrangements. Get what you need and get off the phone. As soon as I heard her voice, I became very direct and somewhat confrontational. I wanted off the phone. Naturally she had stories to tell me. I told her I did not have time for her stories. I didn’t. That did not stop her.

I did some laundry tonight and she caught me in the laundry room and began her stories right away. I would love to tell you what she said, but I didn’t listen. I walked out of the room when I got my things in the washer and she followed me to the puzzle table and kept the story going. She was there over a half hour until someone came to get her to show her something. Blessed is the woman who wanted to show her something. They left together.