This one’s not a thing my dad did, just a general annoying-as-fuck thing, and I probably mentioned it before: when The Dandy is enthusiastic about a subject, he’ll interrupt me. Constantly. And it drives me fuckin’ crazy.
One time (during a neutral interlude when he wasn’t speechifying at me) I asked him if he knows he’s interrupting me but just plunges on ahead anyway, or if he genuinely doesn’t notice me repeatedly taking a breath and starting to speak. He gave one of those nothing responses, either rambling a bunch and then afterwards I realized he hadn’t answered my question or else going silent and belligerent, I forget. Actually I think he went silent but smirked, that time. Like he was acknowledging that his behaviour was almost comedically terrible. But anyway he didn’t answer my question.
But yeah. I absolutely hate how he does this. HATE.
Last night, a friend posted a meme on Facebook that talked about how much taxpayer money was spent on that recent royal wedding when, not long ago, an apartment building in the UK burned down because it wasn’t properly fireproofed and the government said there just hadn’t been enough money in the budget for that. (Or something. I don’t really follow this stuff.) I don’t know or really care about the subject, particularly, but two guys on that thread started arguing about it to just ridiculous proportions – they got to the point of slinging childish insults at each other, many of which were disparaging toward women – and the mutual friend who’d posted the meme was a woman. So I trolled these guys a little bit to kinda throw them off their rhythm because I thought they were being douchebags.
So I go into the bedroom to tell The Dandy about this – mostly to brag about the expert way I needled the two arguers, but also to rant about how they were saying shit like “take your Midol because you’re acting crazy.” I even specifically prefaced my story by saying that I don’t care about the “blarrrrgh how dare the royal wedding be so expensive” thing.
The Dandy interrupted me mid-sentence to say “I don’t think the wedding would have been paid for by taxpayers’ money, though. It’s not like the Royal Family gets a salary from the government or anything. They’re tax-exempt, so they get to hold on to the money they already have, but that’s about it.”
Again: I don’t really follow this stuff and I don’t care a lot. But I’m sure I read somewhere that the queen of England does get a salary of sorts. Like, a few million bucks a year. So the complaint from the meme seems pretty valid.
So I said to The Dandy, “Actually, I read – ” but he burst out with more verbiage essentially rehashing what he’d already said. I waited for the next pause and said “Actually – ” and he brought forth another mighty blast of verbal diarrhea that completely drowned me out. I tried to make my point two or three more times but The Dandy kept fucking railroading me and finally I gave him a death glare and just plain left the room. If he’d asked me where I was going, I would have straight-up said “You’re clearly not in this to have an actual conversation; you just want to hear your own voice. And you don’t need me around for that.” But he didn’t say anything. I think he knew exactly why I was leaving. Of course, he didn’t apologize at any point. He acted conciliatory with me later that night – announcing that he was going to bed and telling me, with a faint air of sheepishness, that if I came to bed, too, he’d pet me to sleep. But he never actually addressed what he’d done and said he was sorry. God forbid.
In some ways it’s even worse when he interrupts me and we’re not in a political debate or any sort of passionate conversation. Because, like, the amount I have to fight to be heard doesn’t feel like it justifies whatever stupid casual remark I was trying to say.
The Dandy and I have watched all of The Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix, and enjoyed it. The redheaded chick who plays the daughter on the show is in this other Netflix series, Drama World, that I watched a bunch of by myself one day a few weeks ago while The Dandy was at work. I really like the actress and looked her up on IMDb to see if she might have been in anything else I’ve seen and I just didn’t realize it. I learned that she’s Australian. I’d had no idea – her American accent sounds completely flawless to me. So that’s a neat bit of info!
So The Dandy came home and went on a little tirade about his shitty day at work. I commiserated like you’re supposed to. He seemed to be winding down. Eventually there was a good fifteen seconds of silence. And I went to casually mention “I found out today that the daughter from The Santa Clarita Diet is actually Australian!” but just as I started to talk, The Dandy burst out with more words. I can’t remember if it was more work stuff or random observations or what. I reacted to what he’d said. He was quiet for another 20 seconds or so. Then I tried to say the thing about the actress again and he interrupted me again. And in case I wasn’t clear before, he never ever acknowledges that I’d been speaking. It’s never “AND ANOTHER THING – oh sorry what were you gonna say?” – that would also be annoying, but less so than him just talking right the fuck over me without looking back.
“That chick from The Santa Clarita Diet is Australian!” is not life-or-death info. I’m aware of this. I wasn’t, like, sooooo insistent that he know this piece of trivia that I’d decided that telling it to him was the hill I would die on; if he’d started a whole new thread of conversation I would have let go of the thing about the actress and gotten involved in the new topic. But The Dandy didn’t start a conversation, per se. He would burst out with one discrete statement that required minimal participation from me (“So I’m thinking beef for dinner” type thing) and then he’d fall silent and I’d try to bring up the actress thing by way of small talk and just as I was starting to speak, he’d burst out with yet another discrete statement. And this ended up happening five or six times in a row. And it would feel so stupid to start an argument about this (“FUCKING BLOODY HELL CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR TWO SECONDS SO I CAN TELL YOU THAT THE REDHEAD FROM THE SANTA CLARITA DIET IS AUSTRALIAN JESUS CHRIST”), because the thing I was trying to say was so utterly trivial. But it still sucks to be talked over, y’know? And he’s done it when I was trying to say important stuff, too, so it’s not like I’d only be yelling about not being able to dish out a piece of celebrity trivia. I’d just be yelling about the latest incident of being repeatedly talked over like I wasn’t there. But still.
I decided to give up trying to talk whatsoever, about anything, until it really, truly seemed like the Dandy had blurted every thought out of his head that he possibly could. It would have been nice to have a pleasant conversation with him; I do enjoy his company (usually) and he’d been gone all day. But clearly he was still agitated from his day or whatever and not able to settle in and interact with me like a human. So I gave up.
He actually didn’t say anything else after the last time he’d interrupted me. We sat in silence for five full minutes, probably longer. I turned Netflix back on to watch more Drama World, and the title screen came up with a picture of that redhead, and I thought that since The Dandy seemed all talked out at last, it might finally be safe to say the fucking thing about the actress.
I took a breath, gestured toward the tv, and said “So, the – ”
And The Dandy blurted out “What are you watching?” thus cutting me off. Again. HOW DOES HE CONSISTENTLY MANAGE TO START TALKING HALF A SECOND AFTER I DO. LIKE HOW DO YOU EVEN TIME THAT SHIT OUT SO PERFECTLY.
And I snapped “Oh my goddddddd.”
The Dandy mistook my reaction to mean something else; I can’t remember what he thought. But he was like “What? Did you something something something?”
And I was like “No, I’ve just been trying to tell you this stupid fucking thing about how this actress is actually Australian for the past ten minutes and it’s getting frustrating, is all.”
So hey, I suppose he doesn’t notice that I’ve started talking, otherwise he would have known precisely why I was so irritated.
But yeah. I’d say shit like this happens every two days on average. And it’s just so ridiculous and infuriating and I don’t know what to do about it besides walk away or physically clamp my hand over The Dandy’s mouth until I finish saying whatever I wanted to say.