Foot In Mouth

It happened to me again yesterday. It was inevitable. I knew something like this would happen, and will probably happen again in the not-too-distant future. I dread it every time I expose myself to the possibility, but I can’t seem to stop putting myself in these situations. I got stuck walking with the Horrible Conversationalist.

You’ve met them before. Often times, they are from somewhere in Saskatchewan. However, this is not a hard and fast rule. They are the people who drive you crazy and won’t go away or shut up. I’m not suggesting they’re stupid, or offensive, or rude. No. They’re just terrible at holding down an interesting conversation and it’s almost assured that THIS person is the one that will be walking with you for the entire duration of your time.

We met at the dog park. Having dogs is what I assume having children will be like: you don’t get to pick the parents you hang out with. Your kids do. Or rather, my dogs do. If your dogs get along well together, you’re walkin’ with that person. Even if ‘that person’ couldn’t talk their way out of a wet paper bag.

I’ve noticed several common traits that the Horrible Conversationalists (HC) all possess:

Including Boring, Mundane Details

My HC yesterday was a lady. She had recently broken her ankle after she was thrown from her horse. Also, she owned a Rhodesian ridgeback who was a Canadian champion. All the makings for lots of interesting stuff to talk about, right?

Wrong. She went into great detail about the type of saddle she owned for her mare, and why it was difficult to fit her mare because although she’s a quarterhorse she has whithers like a standardbred so the knob on the saddle has to be 7”1/2 not 6” but she usually rides bareback because her saddle doesn’t fit and it pinches and blah blah blah. How uninteresting can you get? Do I give a shit about what type of saddle you own? I don’t know a quarterhorse from an Arabian, so giving me details of their measurements without giving me context is like yelling baseball statistics at me.

HCs do this regularly. They either provide too much detail and the story gets boring, or not enough detail so it makes no sense.

Referring to People You’ve Never Met

My HC did this constantly. “Paul said that he’d pay the entrance fee for the dog, so when I called Jenny to confirm that we were showing on Saturday….” Um, who is Paul? And why are we suddenly talking about Jenny? Some introduction to these strangers would help my understanding of what it is we’re talking about. HCs also tend to offer you suggestions that involve these mysterious people without providing any sort of explanation as to who they are.

“Oh! If you’re looking for a Rottweiler then you should call Dave because he spends a ton of time making sure the match between the owner and the dog is right and he’ll always take a dog back…” So, does Dave own a kennel? Does he breed Rottweilers? Is he hiding in a white van by a playground somewhere? Who the hell is Dave, and why would I call him? HCs never bother with silly things like ‘introductions.’

Come Across as Condescending

I don’t think HCs ever mean any harm…I just think they have no inner monologue that tells them when they’re being offensive.

My HC and I got to talking about dog food. She feeds her (purebred! He’s a purebred!) only raw, real meat. I feed mine a mix of high and middle quality dry food, sprinkled with some fresh, cooked meat.

“Oh, you should never mix dry and fresh. It upsets their digestive system. Their bowels stress to try and digest two totally different types of food and it can upset the bacteria and enzymes in their system. I switched to raw food and I never looked back. Instantly better.” And on, and on.

What I wanted to say was, “Well, Abraham ate a shoe yesterday and Finli always enjoys goose poop when he can find it, so if anything was going to upset the balance of their bacteria and enzymes I think that would have.” Like I’m going to be so super militant about their diet. That kind of diligence would involve running through fields to pull dead birds’ wings out of their mouths, and that ain’t happening.

What I actually said was, “Well, it’s different for each dog.” I’d like to feed my dogs the perfect food, but I’m stuck feeding them what they’re willing to eat.

There was a level of pretention about her dog, as well. I have two rescue dogs from the Humane Society. They are purebred Heinz 57’s. They cost me a $25 donation plus vet fees. Her dog, she informed me, was Oscar from the States (see “Referring to People You’ve Never Met”). His mother was a Canadian champion, so he was registered with both the American Kennel Club and the Canadian Kennel club. She listed his achievements, none of which involved actually doing anything besides just being a Rhodesian ridgeback.

To each his own, and Lord knows I love certain breeds…but c’mon. A dog is, first and foremost, a member of the family. If he knows the five basic commands, doesn’t hurt anybody and loves you with that unconditional dog love then who cares if he’s got a fancy pedigree? Isn’t it enough that he’s there and he loves you? What are these people trying to prove? Like I said, I understand the attraction to purebreds…it’s the bragging and the showing I don’t get. HCs seem to be oblivious to this and feel that through their fancy ‘possessions’ they obtain a higher status.

Expressing No Interest Whatsoever in What the Other Person Has To Say

This, my friends, is the hallmark of all Horrible Conversationalists. They do not actually have a conversation with you; they wait until you stop talking so that they may continue.

My HC was EXCEPTIONAL at this. Not only did she never once inquire about anything to do with me or my dogs, but if I so much as paused to take a breath she would jump in and natter on and on about whatever the topic of conversation had been. This is the most frustrating part about trying to speak with an HC, because the lack of empathy is simply exhausting.

It takes so much energy to try and stay engaged in a conversation when you know the other person doesn’t give a shit about who or what you are…you are simply an animated figure that they can spew whatever is on their mind at and, because of decorum, you must endure the experience.

My walk with my HC ended, mercifully, after about an hour. I can assure you, there were no long goodbyes. As we were winding down, we talked about our holiday plans (she talked, I walked faster). It turns out she and her mom are going to visit her grandfather in his retirement home, and she was worried her dog wouldn’t get enough exercise.

Still being polite, I asked, “Oh? Where is the retirement home?”

“Saskatchewan,” she replied.