Shut Up About Your Cruise! I Don't Care! Boring People.

There’s nothing I can’t stand more than a bore ass. People just yappin’ about stuff that isn’t remotely interesting or funny. And giving every mundane detail. Going on and on.

Like this chick I used to work with would go on a cruise every year and when she came back she would tell me every boring detail. She’d start off like, “OK, so we get there Monday. And usually we like to check in and get right to the bar, but it was really crowded so we decided, ‘What he hell’, lets sneak in a drink across the street…”

But saying it in a way like “Aren’t we crazy?” And trust me. Nothing interesting happened across the street but the margarita’s were sooooooo good.

Then she would proceed to go day by day and tell me every boring detail. I’d sit there nodding (because I’m a nice guy – plus I was trapped in her office). Sometimes when you thought your sentence was almost over she’d remember something “important” in the story and have to go back, “So we wake up on Thursday and then and I wanted to get to that buffet so….Oh wait! I forgot to tell you about the illusionist we saw Wednesday night*!!!”

I was always happy when she was done and even happier when I’d see her corning someone else in the hall or in the coffee room. And you’d see the same glazed over look in their eyes as she excitedly told them the exact story. Word for word, “We met this couple named Peggy and Mike. They were sooooo funny. We’re going to keep in touch. Mike was a RIOT!” I'd give the person a look behind her back like, "Hmmm you don't say.."

So basically what I’m trying to say is: if you’re boring, please shut the fuck up.

(And look at that fat fuck in the blue at the buffet table. Jesus Christ Tubby. Leave some food for the rest of us!)

*can he make me disappear

This One Time At Gillian's In Ocean City. Scrambler.

This may sound mean but I’m stating the facts.

Years ago while vacationing with the family in Ocean City New Jersey we went up to Gillians Wonderland Pier with the kids. Gillians is on the boardwalk and has rides for the tots.

We’d usually get our happy hour in, then fill up a water bottle with booze to sip on during the time we had to spend at Gillians. Well, I would bring the booze water bottle but the others were babies so they didn’t. Well, I think my friend Debbie later did. I forget.

Actually that part of the story doesn’t even matter. Here’s what does. We’re standing at the “Scrambler” - you know, that ride where you sit and it looks like a giant spider? And it spins and stretches it’s long legs?

So I’m standing next to the ride operator and every so often when one of the cars swings over for the split second near us I could hear someone saying, “Stop the ride.”

Then it would go away. Then, “I gotta get off!”

Then it was gone.

Well it turns out that there was a retarded man in one of the cars that obviously wanted to get off. And the ride operator - a eighteen year old kid - was just looking at him. And kind of smiling. In a demented way. As if saying, “You can ask me to stop the ride as many times as you want Pal but it ain’t happening. Because I’m having too much fun torturing you.” It was so obvious he heard the dude screaming to stop the ride.

It’s the kind of thing where somebody should have stepped in but…you know… the management office was all the way back there and all so….

And here’s what’s even funnier, I look on the other side of the operator and the retarded man’s family is leaning up against the gate. And they’re laughing. Hysterically. I mean roaring with laughter.

The car would approach, “STOP THE RIDE!”

And a family member would yell, “Nope! You wanted to go on it!”

This went on for a good five minutes or so. There’s no real ending to the story. He didn’t throw up or anything but I just saw a picture of a scrambler and remembered the story. It’s pretty wrong don’t you think? Funny. But wrong.