Little Miss Interrupter and Mr Angry

Did you read those Mr. Men books as a kid? You know, Mr. Happy, Mr. Angry, Mr. Chatterbox? Here's a picture, in case you forgot.

I am going to write a new one to give to a co-worker. Its called Little Miss Interrupter. Let's be clear. I work with first graders, so does this "woman." (Quotations because her maturity, not her gender, is in question.) First graders have to be taught how to wait their turn. They interrupt and need little reminders that they should listen when someone is talking and wait until the time is right to interject or ask a question. All is forgiven in first grade land. All is not forgiven with Little Miss Interrupter. She fails to wait for the appropriate time to interject. She exits conversations, then without first listening to see what people are talking about, she rudely enters them loudly and without pause. It is exhausting. My lunch is invariably spent with another first grader. I like to leave my room and have lunch with my fellow teachers. It is an opportunity to talk to grown-ups (usually,) work out problems and take a little break. Some people are lunch workers, I am not. On several occasions, I have acted overly offended, "Oh my god, I totally didn't finish what I was saying, hellooo?!?" Hoping the effect would be least offensive way to tell her she is rude. On several other occasions I have redirected the conversation back, "I'm sorry, but I really wanted to hear the end of so-and-so's story/point/joke." At this point, I would rather share lunch with my students who are less rude than this individual. I am at the point where I would like to say, "You know what, you have interrupted me and its rude. Please listen more carefully when people are speaking. It makes me feel like you don't care about what I have to say, and if that is the case, then I don't really need to continue this conversation."

Of course, it would sound diplomatic coming from anyone else, but I have this tendency to sound berating. Not so good. Guess I will just have to muster up my very best "first grade voice." Perhaps I will use this as a lesson to help my students help me solve my problem, maybe they have a nicer way to say it.

On another note, Mr. Angry was at the drugstore. I was standing in line at the pharmacy waiting to buy my monthly supply of 12-hour Sudafed (because I might make meth with it, yeah, right,) and Mr. Angry was in front of me. Mr. Angry was obviously irritated and perhaps feeling sick. I was completely in la-la land thinking about how I was going to make enough meth from one packet of sudafed, I mean, thinking about how many licks it takes to get to the center of the Tootsie roll pop. Mr. Angry brought me back to pharmacy land. He was scolding the pharmacist for having announced over the loudspeaker that his prescription for ______________ was ready and that she had announced his prescription for prozac would cost blah-de-blah amount. Granted he was embarrassed that people might have known that he was manic depressive or whatever, but I actually was not made aware of this point until he did so by getting angry with the pharmacist. Now, I will forever remember this dude and that he takes prozac (which is probably good info, so I can cross the street and all,) because he made such a scene. I agree, they should not have announced it, but he made it worse by pointing it out because no one was the wiser until then. I will have to point and laugh now. I can learn from this. Next time, lean over the counter and say, "It is more professional to maintain the privacy of your customers prescriptions. In the future, please do not announce what they are."
Doh!