Large Fierce Mammal

Letting your mouth run on autopilot is as fraught with peril as disengaging what sentience you may possess from the interaction at hand. Notwithstanding that, today’s world abounds with meaningless utterances — prattle — that are offered as an introductory course to the drivel du jour before someone either takes the money for your purchase or tells you why they can’t help with whatever issue brought you there.

It will come as no surprise to our regulars here that I have days when I’m feeling particularly game and enjoy derailing an autopilot or two, and I do have a few never fail favourites.

For example, when Mrs. LFM was pregnant with our first bairn, and very close to due date, we waited an unconscionably long time for service in an establishment where we simply wanted lunch and had even ordered from the “speedy” menu to ensure a quick in and out. We were ultimately served along with an apology and a query if we had been waiting long. My reply was, “Well, my Wife wasn’t even pregnant when we came in here.”

Now that we’ve got our three strapping lads at 10, 8, and 6 years of age, the line still works.

A related utterance to asking if I’ve been waiting long is, “Sorry about the wait,” to which I occasionally reply, as evaluated on a case by case basis, “Why? How much do you think I weigh?”

One more example comes when someone has been asking too many questions bordering on nosiness. It’s amazing how easy it is to steer someone into asking if you have siblings:

Them: “So, do you have any siblings?

Me: “Yes, one. A sister.”

Them: “Older or younger?”

Me: “Neither. She’s dead.”

Them: “Oh my God! I’m sorry!”

Me: “It’s fine. She wasn’t a very good sister.”

An alternate ending is, “You were in no way implicated.”

For those non-game days though, this bit of verse fits the prevailing mold.

Prattle

By LFM

“How are things?”
People ask as a matter of course,
Which could mean, “How’s your day?” or,
“How is your horse?”
Because horses are “things”,
So are days come to that,
They might as well ask me
The fit of my hat.

What they’re asking, of course,
Is far less specific,
And solicits no more than,
“Oh, just terrific!”
For doubters I’ll offer this sure way to tell —
Just answer, “My toilet’s a portal to Hell.”
If your tone is upbeat they will answer in kind,
And no word that you’ve uttered will enter their mind.