Some people, I've learned, just don't get it. Try as they may, they seem to drown in the subtle truths of life while the rest of us float comfortably. One particular characteristic of offense is when someone can't take a fucking hint. You know, that person who just won't get off the phone when it's obvious you're in a rush and the only way to abort a ten hour conversation is to be blunt with it and then feel sorry afterwards for potentially hurting their feelings. Today at work I was more tired that usual for reasons unknown, and it when it came time to take my half hour break, I was rather excited to engorge myself with innocent tabloidery. But no. One employee, who I enjoy speaking with while not on break, just had to sit at the table next to mine. I was pretty content on reading People and eating my grilled cheese in peace, but he made sure to rape my thirty minutes of precious solitude with no remorse. It began just as I was getting into an article about Elizabeth Smart. He peered over the divider between our tables and made some comment about how sad her story was. I agreed, never taking my eyes away from the page. Then he went on about how being abducted is so traumatic and how the captors must be mentally ill and they should be locked away for life. Another grunt of agreement from me. After finishing that story, which took about ten minutes because said intruder kept barreling through my concentration, I turned the page, which happened to feature some average-looking broad. "Who's that?" he asked. "She's attractive. Oh wait, she's ok. She has nice eyes. I'd date her." Oh, thank you so very kindly for your input, because I was just dying to know what you thought of some forty year old hag People magazine used to fill up an empty page. And then, just as I was biting into my Fig Newton, he started with his rap. Yes, he raps in his spare time, and every so often he'll just blurt out a line that he thought of while on register. He'll say a line and stare at me like I'm supposed to start shaking my ass to his jams, yo. And furthermore, his raps sucks. It blows hardcore. His "sick rhymes" sound like a third grader who rides the short bus made them up. So after he got done sharing his views on abducted children, he starts rapping to me about how he's in the backyard doin' your wifey. And THEN he spits out another line and starts telling me about his different styles, because one style is "hard" for young people to relate to and another is less intense, so it appeals to all demographics, and how he doesn't like rap with too much cursing because he likes to listen to his music while he drives and he has too much respect for old people and kids and shit like that, man. Oh, and this is the best part. The entire time he's yammering on, I've been trying my hardest to tune him out while continuing to sporadically make eye contact as to not completely blow him off. So then he says, "I hope I'm not bothering you. My lunch is almost over so I won't be bothering you too much longer."

Time out. Let's get something straight. If I'm sitting at a table by myself, glued to a magazine, shoving food in my mouth and answering you with "uh huh" and "I know" over and over again, do you think I've made it clear that I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING TALK TO YOU? I mean good god in heaven, is it that hard to take a damn hint? Invest in a tape recorder and rap into it. Do a crossword. Eat a packet of ketchup. Just leave me the hell alone.

As luck would have it, his break was over three minutes before mine, so I got to enjoy three wonderful minutes of jabber-free time. If he ever sits next to me again, I'm pretending I have an important phone call to make and sitting the hell outside.


The next incident occurred shortly after the break from hell. The cashier behind me was a middle-aged woman who likes to talk. She said something along the lines of how she'd be able to buy anything she wanted if she had a credit card. Which, by the way, is a complete falsehood and is the reason why so many people are in debt. So I told her that having a credit card wouldn't make a difference; if you can't afford it in cash then you can't afford it with a credit card, either. "No, I'd buy a big house and a car and nice clothes and just charge everything." Uh, it doesn't work like that. You don't just BUY a house. You don't just put it on your credit card, you dumb whore. You have to put money down and take out a loan, and if your credit sucks you don't buy a house, and if you do, you wind up with a foreclosed house just like everyone else who thought they could evade their financial reality. And when you charge things, the bill comes in a month later, asking to be paid, and if you can't pay it in full you get charged interest, and then if you can't pay that either you go into debt. People are so damn stupid. Do people honestly think that if they have a credit card they can buy things they couldn't buy with cash? Yes, you need a credit card for flights, hotels, large purchases, things of that nature. But if the money isn't there in the first place you don't have any business spending. I like my money in the bank, not going towards interest for some purse I just had to have. Jesus Christ.