Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The Dangling Conversation

 (Location: my office)
Lady: I have a question and I don't know who to talk to. I want to know if there is town land available for a community garden.

Me: I..(cut off)

Lady: We used to have one at [location, private company] but they all of a sudden said we couldn't do it anymore.

Me: Well...(cut off)

Lady:Any of the private landowners we asked said no because they don't want strangers on their property.

Me: It could be an insurance issue. (she talked the whole time I was speaking.)

Lady: no, that's not the reason. (of course it isn't what was I thinking!) I don't know why they won't. (then how do you know it's not the reason?) Do you know of any town owned land?(yes, but I'm not telling you because I want you to leave my office. You've had your 15 seconds.)

Me: you could check with the assessors for town land. (Had to say it really fast. She's still talking. Waivers. what could be planted.)

Lady: oh, okay. 

Me: Down the hall.(Be gone with you.)

Just another one-sided conversation where I sit opening and closing my mouth like a bass trying to answer questions of a person who apparently already knows the answers but can't get enough of the sound of their own voice.

Then there's the arguer.
Him: I need to fill out an application to do some roofing. I have the permit application.

Me: umm, you don't want that one.
Him: I don't?
Me: no, that's a trench permit application. You need the building permit application.

Him: oh. (goes away to fill out application. Returns.) This isn't the right one.

Me: sure it is.

Him: I need one for roofing, this is for building.

Me: no that's the right one, roofing is on there.

Him: Well, other towns have a separate one for roofing.

Me: That's the only one we have. (we're not other towns dood.) The only other permit app is for woodstoves.

Him: Well that doesn't matter. (no kidding genius.) I'll get you my insurance number.

Me: great. (at this point the B.O. is getting to much for me to hold my breath much longer!)

Him: I'll have my office fax it.

Me: Super. (exhales as offending object leaves.)

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