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Loudmouth
It’s hard to call them anything other than what they are. Loudmouths.
I recall one who sat right behind me on a long flight. He blabbered to the poor soul next to him from the time he sat down until we exited the plane several hours later. Not only did he speak essentially non-stop, but did so loudly enough to draw frowns, eye rolls and groans from passengers several rows fore and aft. All of this not-so-subtle feedback eluded his awareness altogether. It’s sort of a nothing gets in, everything goes out scenario.
I did my best to ignore his booming monologue, but those of us nearby couldn’t help but hear all about his marriage, business, real estate holdings, hobbies, health issues, sleep habits, political opinions and pets, to name a few. Obviously, such people find themselves utterly fascinating and operate on the premise that everyone else does too. While it would be easy and, perhaps, accurate to label this fellow a narcissist, suffice it to say he felt entitled to be heard by anyone within earshot, including complete strangers.
As someone who is fairly noise sensitive to begin with, suffering such folks is a form of sensory torture. These are the types who encourage frequent flyers to bury their faces in books or slap on noise cancelling headphones the moment they take their seats. I’ve become one. When we do this, the non-verbal message is clear. Leave me alone. Still, some of them don’t get it. One insisted on talking to me while I had my headphones on. I don’t recall anything he said, probably because I didn’t hear it.
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Auditory Assault
Now, airplanes are particularly onerous in this regard. You’re all packed into a thin cylinder like Pringles and there is no escape. But this sort of auditory assault occurs in many venues—restaurants, workplaces, waiting rooms, buses, movie theaters, even the urinal. Granted, there may be a few individuals on the planet worth listening to for long periods, but rarely are they blathering about themselves. Those who want to drown you in their drivel usually have a near singular focus on “me, myself and I.” If they do pause to hear what you have to say, it’s only to catch their breath or create a segue to their next anecdote.
Now, there are some motor mouths who are simply ill at ease with silence, so they feel compelled to cram every interactive moment with talking. But these folks will often engage in a two-way conversation, as opposed to breathless soliloquies about any and all aspects of their existence. It’s a dialogue rather than a monologue.
What is lacking in most loudmouths, aside from what my mother called “the virtue of silence,” is any self-awareness of how they come across to their victims. It never seems to occur to them that others may not be all that interested in hearing their life story, or that innocent bystanders might be bothered by their bullhorn style approach to speaking.
In this regard, they are essentially unconscious. When they begin yakking, it’s as if they enter their own alternate reality, one that is impervious to the non-verbal cues from others suggesting that “you can zip it anytime now.” Sure, everyone has to have someone to tell it to. Most of us want to share our stories and be heard. But blowhards only offer a one-way street — out of their mouths and into our ears.
Folks of this ilk should stop nattering long enough to realize that the more they keep their mouths shut, the less likely they’ll put their foot in it.
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