the patience of Job...something I clearly lack

"Looks like you read a lot."

I sighed internally. What is it about me that makes random strangers think I want to talk to them? It can't be my demeanor...even people who know me well often ask what is wrong when I am happiest. I do not do a good job of smiling. So if those who know and love me think I am angry why do random strangers try to initiate conversation? I do what I can to avoid it...I do not make eye contact, I stay out of crowds as much as possible, I always make sure I am occupied...

"Yep," I muttered, shifting the stack of books from one arm to the other. Though they were heavy, I was mostly trying to get them out of his line of sight.

"Like history, eh?" he said.

Great. Obviously this conversation was going to continue. I decided to expand on my previous answer.

"Uh-huh." Two syllables. Maybe that will satisfy him.

"I love history. I read a lot about it. I see you like the Romans."

I glanced down. Sure enough, the top book in the pile was Ancient Rome. Great. Einstein sees one tome and knows my tastes. "Yep."

"I have always been fascinated by Roman history. All those Caesars running around expanding their territory and helping out the poor. I loved Gracchus."

Great. Now he is name-dropping about people who have been dead 2000 years. Well...2 can play at that game. I decided to send out a feeler to see if he really knew what he was talking about or not. "Yes, the debate over Tiberius Gracchus is interesting. Personally I hold the view he was not so much interested in the welfare of the poor as he was exercising in self-aggrandizement. I think it is a powerful argument he needed to expand the numbers of the landowners to allow the expansion of the military."

"Huh. I never thought of that."

As I suspected. That is Gracchus 101, hardly a revolutionary concept. I had to give him credit, though, he decided to try again.

"My favorite Roman was Pompey."

"Don't you think Mithridates was over rated and Pompey was just playing around with him, making him seem more dangerous than he was in order to make his own crossing of the Rubicon but Julius beat him to it?"

Yep, I had him read right. He had no clue what I was talking about. He decided to try a different approach.

""No, I think he was pretty civic-minded. I like the Romans but I am more about the Civil War. Grant was THE MAN!"

So you are going to try me on the Civil War? Good luck with that. "Perhaps. I always thought Sherman got a bad rap for his march on Atlanta. Sure, Grant got the glory...but he got the body counts, too."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Grant fought all his battles head on. Sherman mostly avoided the battles. By destroying the infrastructure of the South he won without having to fire bullets. He accomplished more with less bloodshed." I deliberately left open the counter argument that Lee was opposing Grant, not Sherman. The South had nobody the caliber of Lee to block Sherman. He missed it.

"Good point. If I had put that in my paper I might have made the honor society."

I decided to thrown another verbal hook. "You mean the PTA?"

"Parent Teacher Association? No, the history honor society."

"That is what I meant, the Phi Theta Alpha. I entered it at PSU the first term I was eligible."

"Oh." He paused, unsure of what to say. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," I replied. When he was quiet for a few moments I smiled inwardly. Satisfied this annoying gnat was done, I moved up a place in line.

"You must like movies, too."

"Huh?"

He pointed to Directing Single Camera Drama. "Looks like you are studying directing."

I shrugged. I like making videos and I like knowing "the language of movies".

"I made a movie once."

I was not enjoying the conversation and was tired of being nice. "Yeah, I think I saw it on MST3K." My barb failed.

"What is that?"

Hmm. He is unfamiliar with Mystery Science Theatre 3000? How can you insult someone who doesn't know when they are being insulted? "Oh, they run a lot of independent movies."

"Oh, no, I have never played there that I know of." Apparently he saw me loading another verbal shell because he decided to switch up again. "You have a lot of interests."

"Right now I am interested in eating." I took another step forward in line.

"You just learning poker?"

I looked down at my books again. There were indeed a couple of poker books including Professional No Limit Hold 'Em Volume I. "No, I have played for a while. I do okay."

He started to tell me about a bad beat he had taken the other night. I nodded off internally. I came back just in time to hear, "So when the Jack fell on the river I had the straight and raked a huge pot."

I started. It wasn't a bad beat story, he was telling about putting a beat on someone. I tried to play off not paying attention. "What did you have on the flop?"

"A gut shot straight and backdoor flush."

I nodded. "Must have been getting great pot odds to call with that."

"Pot odds?"

Great. I not only trapped by an overeager conversationalist, he was someone who knew nothing about the subjects he picked. Well, I suppose you could argue I picked the subjects...he was picking them off my books.

I debated explaining the pot odds to him...but there is an old poker adage, "Never teach a fish." Too bad there wasn't one saying, "Never disturb a Weasel when he just wants to sit out of the rain, read a book and eat dinner." I was starting to regret walking to the library instead of driving. I was running out of patience. I really wanted to just haul off and knock him into next week. But society without manners and etiquette is anarchy...even if your undesired conversational partner is a moron.

I decided to be a little aggressive anyway. "Well, been nice chatting with you. Looks like I'm next to order."

Gleefully I looked around the restaurant, happy to be escaping him. It was pretty crowded. I found a small booth in the back and sat down. I flopped open a book and started reading.

Annoyed, I looked up as the table jostled. "Only open seat," he said, sitting down.

Seriously? I have very few things that irritate me so much that I want to scream. One of them is trying to read and constantly being interrupted. I had no desire whatsoever to speak with this cretin. What did I do to deserve this?

He started in again. "What you reading there?"

The words were on the tip of my tongue. None of your smurfing business you idiotic, intrusive, abrasive butthead. I restrained myself. "Biography."

"Oh yeah? Who of? Alexander the Great? Julius Caesar? General Sherman?"

"Close. Poincaré'."

"Oh. Who is that?"

This time my sigh was audible. "I guess I am not sure what you are looking for. Yes, I have a wide variety of things I enjoy reading about. I would, in fact, like to be reading about some of them at this very moment but every time I try to read you have another comment. Can I help you somehow?"

Sure enough, the hurt look crossed his face. "I was just trying to be friendly."

I gave him that famous fake smile that fools no one. "Sorry. Did not mean to hurt your feelings." It was at least as sincere as a campaign promise and almost as believable. I took a bite and turned back to my book.

"Where do you do your grocery shopping?"

What? Seriously? Did he just ask that? I laughed. "What, you an Amway salesman, about to tell me how I can own my own store?" I meant it to be rude and sarcastic. I saw by his reaction I had nailed it. He was prospecting for a down line.

Funnily, I had just been touched up a few weeks ago by an Amway guy...I mean, they have changed their name, but I know who they are...and I almost went for it before I remembered...I hate selling stuff and don't feel like cold-calling.But if I were going to go for it, he would have been the one. I liked him. Well, him or Rick...but I don't think Rick does it anymore.

Now, when I thought he was just an annoying human being I held my tongue...for the most part...but now that I knew he was just trying to sell me something, the gloves were off. "Let me save you some time. I like my food fresh, I am happy with my deodorant...at least, I would be if I wore any...I like name brand detergents and am not going to be a little profit pod for you." He tried to interject something but I had a head of steam up. "I am not interested in their products, I don't want to get locked into buying x amount of product every month and, in short, am not a prospect for you."

"But..." he said, clearly about to explain why I should get involved with him anyway.

I held up my hand. "Sir, I was minding my own business waiting in line. You started the conversation. You tried to demonstrate your knowledge on a variety of topics. To this point all you have shown is how little you know about any of them. It is your misfortune to have run into someone who, at the risk of sounding arrogant, knows a whole lot about a whole lot of things and, in this case, knows a lot more than you on about every subject. That includes the product you are selling. I don't want to go to the meetings, no matter how exciting they are, I don't want the promise of making millions of dollars, I don't want to purchase it and use it myself. Plain and simple, my interest can be summed up in 2 words. NOT INTERESTED."

You would think the conversation would be done there. I am not sure what openings I left. I was not smiling, not projecting any kindness or milk of human decency (how does one milk a decency, anyway?), and had verbally abused him as if he were Macauley Culkin and I were Michael Jackson....allegedly...

"Well, here is my card in case you change your mind."

I looked at the card. I looked at him. I looked at the card. I looked at him. "If I take your card, will you leave me alone?"

He smiled. He seemed excited. "I will."

I nodded. I took the card. I stood up, walked to the front counter, and dropped it in the fish bowl. Who knows, he might win a free lunch? I walked back to the table. One look at his near apoplectic complexion let me know he did not find it as funny as I did. So now I had to think about how to calm this chap down. I could only think of one way.


Would you like to buy some Amway?