Repeating yourself like clockwork

Dave,

I know you clocked your watch. You've told me. You told me the first day I met you and, as far as I can remember, every day since. I can repeat the story verbatim. I've thought about saying it along with you. It is burning into my memory, somewhere next to the instructions for the oven and not talking to strangers. You clocked your watch. You were running, your pocket watch flew out of your pocket, and you accidentally punched it, permanently shattering the bone in your pointer finger. "And get this - the doctors said that the chances of this happening were the same as me winning the lottery. So, I say, I should play the lottery every day!"

You do say that, don't you. You do. Every day. You don't play the lottery every day, though. No, that's just a bad punchline. But you do, in fact, say that you should play the lottery every day. You say it when you sit down at the keyboard. You say it to everyone you meet. You say it when you bump your pointer finger into a desk, which, I might add, happens every day. You are relentless. You are incessant. Insistent. Unrelenting. You get my point.

The only thing more annoying than people like you are people who talk about their accidents for pity. People who talk about their broken hip every time they get up from a chair. People who discuss the bounty of pills every time someone invites them to the bar. These people. These people just can't keep it to themselves. They talk about it all the time. And so do you, but the only difference is that you think it's a joke. You clocked your watch. How ironic. How mildly amusing for an introductory topic of conversation.

What is it about this situation that you can't get over? Is it the clever play on words? Is it the injury? Is it both? What would have happened if, say, you clocked a tree? Would you tell us this story every day? The doctors wouldn't have told you that lottery bit, because it's probably a lot more common for people to punch trees. Well, on second thought, no it isn't. Just idiots and Republican anti-environmentalists punch trees. So, I suppose you would punch a tree, too. You'd need a different punchline, though. "And get this - the doctors said that the chances of this happening were the same as me eating lunch today. So, I say, I'm on a hunger strike!"

Oh, I wish. I wish you would wither away. Although, you'd probably just tell us all about that, too. Over and over and over again, until you've talked yourself to death.

Shannon

dirty laundry