Throughout our lives we make memories. From these memories we get stories. Stories we share with unwilling folk who are way too polite to tell us to shut up. We’re boring them. I know I’ve been guilty of telling awful stories before. I’ve realized it six words in that my listening partner has no interest in hearing about my amazing adventure involving a screensaver. With that said I would like to call out the people most guilty of having horrible stories. Old people.
(I’m so lazy I use the first Google Image that pops up)
I know. You probably have met some old folk who have great tales to tell. My grandfather chopped off Japanese people’s heads in the 1940s during some famous war I cannot remember the name of because it involved Roman Numerals. Yet all he ever talked about to me was the weather or how his friends would go in a lake naked together and stick their dicks out as trains passed by. Thank goodness for video games and glue huffing. I have been unfortunate enough to never have a worthwhile conversation with an old person. With that out-of-the-way I can now tell you what it is old people seem to talk to me about. Avoid the sounds of oceans or rainforests. Just thinking about these topics could lure you to sleep.
Old people are very nostalgic. You would be too if you can’t remember where the adult diaper aisle is, but you can still remember losing your virginity during a Fireside Chat. I love nostalgia as much as the next person. The problem with old people is their nostalgia takes place during a time when I could barely wipe the spit off my own face. Old people like to bring up memories of younger people when they were children. This could be cute if they had more than three memories. It gets annoying too because old people enjoy saying the same lousy stories over and over again. Worse is when they talk about dead relatives you never met. We have more dead relatives than we have living ones. That’s a lot of names to remember. A lot of people with the same blood for us to also not care about. Maybe I’d be more interested if anyone in my bloodline ever did anything interesting. At least my one friend’s ancestor was the first person to ever be killed by the electric chair. My relatives alive around then probably were the dopes his relatives killed.
(Hey Rob, he totally has your same hair color)
Commercials are a thing old people love to discuss. Television shows, sure. Go ahead. Discuss away. But commercials? Have they not heard of TiVo, downloading, DVDs, or putting your fingers in your ears and saying “La La La” while those marketing demons run amuck on our screens? Young people cannot stand commercials. The colors are not bright enough. Miranda Cosgrove is not in enough of them. I’ve watched those “Best Commercials” shows before. What a dumb move by me. I should just get a Coca-Cola logo tattooed on my forehead and go by the name “TheBigBangTheory ThursdayNightsOnCBS.” Is that show on Thursday nights? I’ve never seen it. Why would I want to watch a show about nerdy guys who are actually friends with a hot chick? I can’t get a hot chick to ask me for help during a rape. Is my cheering too obvious whose side I’m on?
Whenever I run into an “adult” they always ask me about work. When I say adult I mean someone who could be my parent and we’re never fully honest with each other. Adults love talking about work. They say how they hate it, how they put in more effort than anyone else, and so on. Lots and lots of boring nonsense about work. When people ask me how work is I usually shrug and want to tell them that it exists. It’s work! If I loved it then you would have seen me smile at some point in my life. I never ask people about their work. Either their job is boring or so incredibly awesome I’d be jealous to hear about it. There’s nothing wrong with talking about your job when something groundbreaking actually happens. I get it. But finding a pair of scissors in your desk and not knowing who put them there is not mysterious. It’s a waste of breath telling me about it.
(The most exciting thing to ever happen here was when they hired that blonde for a week)
What do I think a conversation with an old person should actually entail? They can’t talk much about their childhoods with joy. A lot of old people grew up in dark times. When my generation was young we’d get Legos stuck up our noses. When my grandparents were young they’d get tuberculosis stuck down their throats. That’s probably why old people talk about simple happier things. They’re glad to be out of the dark times. All I ask of old people is not to talk about their children with me like I should be impressed. Your son is 34. He should be all moved out of your home.