If involved in a light hearted conversation whilst enjoying a libation in my local there is one phrase that will cut me to the core which is ‘I could tell you some stories…’ My immediate involuntary reaction involves every cell in my body silently chanting ‘But please don’t! Please !’
I know some very good storytellers but have heard many, many more lousy ones. Strangely all lousy stories are overlong, but luckily you can tell that you’re in for the long haul within the opening seconds as the narrative will inevitably and rapidly veer off course.
‘So last Wednesday… Or maybe it was Tuesday … no it was Wednesday because that’s the day Amanda has her spinning class… Yes it was Wednesday.’
See what I mean? At least, this meandering drivel will give you an opportunity to develop an exit strategy which may involve going to the bathroom, or maybe simply glancing at your watch saying ‘Shit I’m gonna be late.’ before hurtling out of the room muttering to yourself. Of course, in extreme cases you may decide to go the whole hog and fake anaphylactic shock. This may seem a little drastic but only seconds into the turgid tale it will become clear that it would be difficult to survive a story peppered with spurious details regarding the location the weather, and possibly even what the buffoon had been wearing when this spectacularly ordinary and unfunny incident happened.
If, by some miracle, he (yes it’s usually a bloke!) does cut the story short then you may have another brief window in which you could escape. However be warned that there may be another threat in the audience in the form of another gent already silently rehearsing his entry into the dialogue. Being a polite sort of fellow, your overpowering sense of courtesy will force you to sit through another tedious ten minutes during which time your brain will begin to atrophy as you gradually lose the will to live, and decline into a small gibbering version of your former self. So be warned.
It is not so much (or only) the tedious stories ( and the rhythm of their voices) that irritates, but the volume. Why do some people, way over the other side of the pub, cafe or whatever boom out and carry so far, whereas another is thankfully inaudible? Is it an inner pomposity translating into sound, or a random effect? And yes, it is usually, but not always, men.