Michael Haren’s Wassupy Blog

The Curious Tale of Ms. Talks-Too-Loud

in around town

Like my good pal Dane Cook, I dislike exaggerations:

Exaggerations bug me more than they should. What’s worse, though, is someone who’s made up stories pour out in an effort to impress those unfortunate enough to be stuck nearby (i.e. coworkers and patrons). I’ll explain…

On Saturday Wife and I took ventured out alone while my amazing sister watched Thing1 and Thing2. We didn’t have a lot of time so we did what every super hip, sexy couple does: went to Panara and played cards.

Although our riveting games of Speed and Gin were a much needed distraction from life’s events, they were no match for Ms. Talks-Too-Loud. You know who I’m talking about—that person several tables over who never learned how to use indoor voices. In this case, Ms. Talks-Too-Loud works at Panara.

And she’s completely to the brim full of crap. I understand the pressure to be cool in front of your friends and make up crazy, ridiculous, absolutely-did-not-could-not-happen stories. I struggled with that as a kid but have since learned to embellish my stories solely with the facts and only the finest, choicest self-deprecating humor. I think most adults eventually reach this stage, too.

Ms. Talks-Too-Loud has not reached this state. Here are a few thoughts we overheard:

It makes we want to pull my hair out. My hair’s not even real and I want to pull it out.

If I was poor and homeless again and had a baby, I’d totally sell my breast milk.

When was I homeless? (stalling) (stalling) (stalling) After my parents kicked me out.

My parents didn’t even find out I was in jail until two years later.

I once went $500 into debt buying everyone drinks.

I’ve dated a bunch of losers.

This garbage just kept pouring out. She wasn’t even rationing it like most people—sprinkling it into normal conversation—it was just an unrelenting stream of word vomit. The highlight of the evening came when Ms. Talks-Too-Loud was serving a customer, Mr. Full-Of-Crap-Too:

Ms: I was in my prime when I was 17-20…getting drunk all the time.

Mr: When I was 21 I was getting drunk 5x/week! It was awesome.

Ms: Oh I was doing that when I was 18.

Mr: well yeah when I was 18 it was like 4x/week (of course).

Let me just close with a few reminders before anyone complains that I’m just a grumpy old man:

  • I’m not old
  • This person was talking way too loud and we had no choice but to listen.
  • Absolutely everything she said (at least what we could hear) was like the above. For 30 minutes.
  • I hate it when people brag about sucking at life and I hope you do, too.