Thank you for Snake oil Salesmen and Verbal Voo Doo

People who talk too fast about things I do not understand make me dizzy.
Folks that try too hard to sell me their ideas, their religion, their products, or their services, confuse me and force me to retreat to that place in my mind that defensively slows down time and turns their mouth into a slow motion movie, making their voice sound like a baritone with a Texas drawl and a time lapsed lisp.
I watch their lips move like two slabs of liver flapping together and make mental cartoons out of their agendas. This keeps me from going to jail for things that are not part of my innate nature (slapping people silly).
While I make these mental cartoons in response to their “blah blah”, I ask myself all manner of questions…
Does this person think I am listening?
Do they really believe I need this, or do they need me to need this?
Did I leave the stove on at home?
Does this person have a Mom?
How did they become a salesman?
Where is that sock I lost in the laundry?
Would they keep talking if I walked away?
Should I just grab them and hug them until they got so confused they would just slouch into a weightless, silent, mass of bone and muscle that slipped from my arms into a clump on the floor?
Would the other folks in the room notice if I discreetly screamed “Ah, Shuddup!”

These snake oil salesmen and verbose manipulators never seem to notice that I am somewhere else when they are doing their schpiel about how important they are to all of civilization. They continue on as though they were the EverReady battery bunny with a voice.
So they give me plenty of time to do things I otherwise have difficulty fitting into my schedule.
I can balance my check book in my head, write a poem, fantasize about exotic places, visualize whirled peas, make a mental grocery list, etc.
I am thankful for the free time given to me by snake oil salesmen.

~ by leakelley on October 27, 2007.

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