The No Go Zone

by tess

I begin each day by reading a chapter of my favorite self-help book, Be You Only Better: 789 EZ Steps to Fabricating a BRAND NEW YOU that Your Family, Friends, and Colleagues Will Vastly Prefer Over the Sad, Little, Boring, Piece of Crap Person You Were Before You Bought This Book!

Today the always-informative Be You Only Better! helpfully provided me with the lecture, Defeating Your Dishwater Dull Demons. Apparently there are ten topics that must be avoided lest I crush the souls of my friends into a pulpy mash of apathetic tedium. Strictly adhering to BYOB! dogma, I’ve personalized each affirmation du jour by appending a few of my own comments.

1. You must refrain from discussing recent medical procedures.
Nobody wants to hear about your root canal, earwax removal, or ingrown toenail surgery. Keep it to yourself.

2. You must refrain from discussing a detailed account of your last (insert sport here) game/match.
Not only do I not waste my important television-watching and beer-drinking time on physical activities, I have no intention of listening to someone else blather on endlessly about how awesome they are at some lame-ass sport.

3. You must refrain from discussing your boss.
My manager is only interesting to herself and to her employees. Nobody else cares if she’s the Dragonlady Incarnate or Mother Teresa the Sequel. I loathe hearing about the vindictive, bigoted, abusive, myopic, destructive micromanagers who rule their tiny fiefdoms like tyrants. Likewise, I don’t want to hear about the selfless, noble, nurturing, dynamic, generous charmers who make my friends love each and every day of their jobs.

4. You must refrain from discussing the latest additions to your wine cellar.
Unless the discussion centers on how much wine you shouldn’t have imbibed on a certain dancing-on-the-table-and-making-out-with-your-sister-in-law night, there are few topics as annoying as oenophilia. Depending on the class of people around you, you’re sure to sound like either an elitist prig or a Schlitz-drinking, ball-scratching Neanderthal.

5. You must refrain from discussing any recent changes to your child’s nap schedule.
One might think that if others fail to be interested in my human children, they might be even less inclined to hear about my feline child-substitutes. Well, that’s too damn bad! I most assuredly will not only tell total strangers about my precious little darlings, I’ll show them digital photos, imitate their furball-gurgitation, draw comprehensive diagrams highlighting the characteristics proving them superior archetypes of the breed, and pull up the URL to the nanny-cams broadcasting their every movement day and night.

6. You must refrain from discussing an excellent meal that you once had at a restaurant.
Because it’s difficult to express the complex notes of aromas and tastes with words, I’ll agree that this could be a real conversation clogger. Particularly since one’s hostess might feel slighted by the comparison of her Aunt Millie’s tuna noodle casserole to that reverently and orgasmically recalled “tarragon-infused fricassee of fresh sole with Meyer lemon gelée royale served on Sevres china in a tiny Left Bank bistro during the sublime sunset over the Seine”. Also, it’s never a good idea to piss off someone who prepares and serves your food. You might just end up with an impeccably plated cockroach at the bottom of your plate.

7. You must refrain from discussing former lovers.
It’s a small world and somehow it will get back to him that you’re still blathering on to strangers about that time junior year when he cheated on you with your sorority sister. So, on the off chance that you decide one day to rid the planet of their mutual lying, cheating skankitude, don’t publically refer to him as the-one-who-got-away-thanks-to-that-whore-Muffi. Do you really want hoards of character witnesses tattling to the Prosecutor that all it takes is a glass of Chablis and you’re aaaalll about throwing lead and busting caps?

8. You must refrain from discussing the plot of a movie, play or book—in particular, the funny parts.
This is a tricky one. I’ve many times ventured down this path only to realize midway through the tale that I don’t actually have any idea why I thought Will Ferrell’s butt was so darn funny.

9. You must refrain from discussing high school and college.
It’s a process for all of us. If those were your salad days, good for you! That means the best years of your life are far behind you and you have nothing to look forward to but the continual plummet of both your optimism and your breasts. If those years were the most excruciating centuries of your life during which you proved again and again to be a veritable cesspool of insecurities, then definitely put the first 25 years of your life in the rearview mirror and leave them there.

10. You must refrain from discussing your dreams.
I’ve admittedly been known to share the kinkier bits of my dreams on occasion, but only with good friends. I don’t think they were bored. Nauseated and propelled by a strong desire to poke their eyes out with forks perhaps, but never bored.