The Guy At Holiday Parties

I saved two women in the course of one week recently. It had nothing to do with my EMT training. No one was choking or in cardiac arrest. I'm not ready to deal with that yet. I'm talking about rescue from that guy at the Holiday Party. He's somewhere between middle aged and beyond and he stalks and corners women 15 to 30 years younger than he is and starts talking. Talking isn't the right word for it. It's monologuing of the most patronizing sort.

It's the guy who if he finds out your a photographer will launch into a 15 minute soliloquy about his third cousin who was a sculptor before he went bankrupt and became an investment banker as if you are going to glean brilliant career points and find this all endlessly interesting. He's a wise and experienced dude, this guy at the party. No matter what your story he has some experience that tangentially tops you. It doesn't matter if you grew up above the Arctic circle and he's spent his whole life in Southern California, he once spent three days somewhere back in the 70s and so he knows cold and will tell you all about it.

These guys never talk to other men. You extract yourself, turn around, and find he has now attached himself to some other poor woman under 40 (they don't talk to women closer to their own age, either) going on animatedly about his brother's friend who was an important director in a community theater in Toronto while she's attempting to look like she's interested. It's a bit like a kid trying to pay attention in class, with the same full body jerks as she snaps back into awareness. Occasionally she utters an "uh-huh" or "oh!" and keeps her mouth open trying to find a place break in and politely excuse herself. But the leech man knows not to breathe often or he might lose his prey so there are few breaks and they aren't long.

So at one shindig I made a tactical error. I got him off of my friend but then he attached himself to me. She and I ping ponged him back and forth a few times until I finally told him that it was lovely to meet him, but I was here to talk to my friend. The 2nd party I was smarter. I broke in and said I urgently needed to talk to her, which meant he had to go away. It was a brilliant moment except I didn't really have anything to say to her. She looked at me expectantly and I just stammered out something lame about having nothing important but she looked like she needed saved. Then we both laughed.

So my question is: what are these guys thinking? I don't think their flirting. It doesn't feel sexual. It's more like they are hoping our brains will drop out and we'll start fawning over them, hanging on every pearl of wisdom that comes out of their mouths. I think they want groupies and life had not provided. But how do they not notice that they bore every person they talk to? I mean, I'll grant you, I'm pretty socially unaware, but even I get some inkling of something about the tenth or eleventh time the person I'm talking to looks desperately at her friends and mouths, 'Help!'

So here's hoping you all have a lovely holiday with people you enjoy being around.