The
Man Who Loves to Talk
I
saw a man the other day walking his chest;
his
wife held the dog by the leash. and he held
his
stomach in as they walked down Main
Street
on their way to the marina. He just turned
forty,
and if he chose, he could retire and live off
his
investments; but he loves the service business
that
his father passed on to him. He has two,
three
employees, depending upon how busy they
are,
who do all the work; he gets the jobs and
frequents
the coffee shops, because he likes to hear
himself
talk. He’s a very bright man whose mind
clamps
onto details like a vice, and now that he’s
on the
Internet his mind is about to explode with
all
the information, and it’s impossible to converse
with
him because he never stops talking, as though
he’s
driven by a demon to fill a bottomless hole
with
everything that he knows.
Date unknown: 1990-2000
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