I try to be a good listener. I try not to be rude when people are talking. I try to let people finish their story.
But sometimes you just can’t.
I see a guy I’m acquainted with and he’s banged up. Facial lacerations, a cast on one wrist, he even had a walking cast on. I have no idea the true extent of his injuries but the list looks impressive.
The reason I didn’t get the complete list is because I wouldn’t let him complete his story. No, not because I’m some pantywaist who can’t hear a gruesome story. I tell true life gruesome stories that make others cower. I wouldn’t let him complete it because of the way he started it.
I’ll let you be the judge whether I was justified stopping his story.
“Whoa.” I begin. “What happened to you?”
“Last thing I remember was a bunch of us were on a roof drinking Jager. . .”
“And stop right there.”
Justified? I think so. No one needs to hear a story that starts like that.
Its so predictable.