However, there are some ‘Know-it-All’s that are not so cute, but rather make you want to pour cement in your ears to get a little peace and quiet.
Once upon a time, there was a very annoying woman who worked for me. She would come into work, usually early because she knew it was important to catch all the latest information before everyone else on the shift. That way she could be the ‘communication device’ from which such vital tidbits flowed as new candy supply in the sales department, third stall from the left had overflowing toilet, so and so had a better mouse than she did, training guy’s pants were too tight, office manager’s cleavage was showing, and even the boss was in a bad mood. Yea she knew it all. No need for my input. She had it covered. Sometimes it was laughable and sometimes I wanted to slap the ‘information’ right off her mouth. I didn’t, though, because I was a professional, you understand. I had to remain calm at all times. And if you believe that……want to buy a bridge?
Another example of a conduit for all things chat worthy was a woman I had to work night shift with years ago. Night shift in the computer room was supposed to be a time for reading, surfing the internet or leaning back in your chair while checking your eyelids for pinholes….from the inside. Oh but Little Miss Know-it-All vocalized ad nauseam her vast knowledge-base all through the night. I heard about the guy in accounting that scratched his ass, picked his nose and farted, and sometimes simultaneously, with apparently no remorse as to the gross meter he was tilting. I learned how much the president and all the VPs were making. I learned all the freaking words to every country song since the beginning of time, or the beginning of country music, whichever came first. I learned how she invented a new type of urine-collection cup (sprinkle free if memory serves) and had it patented. And finally, I learned that if I started both the big printers at the same time, it would almost drown out her incessant drone. I could still see her, though. And smell her……but that’s another story for another day.
Not wanting to leave the guys out, equally as ear-straining was a man around my age who also worked for me. He would come into my cube (a lot) and sit down (without being invited) and start talking about all the gay people he knew. He wasn’t gay, as he informed me on countless occasions, but “some of his best friends were gay”. Where have I heard that before? It seemed he wanted to connect with me on a gay level. To this day, I have no idea why. It seemed important to him to relate to me, so I went along with it. That is, if you call going along with it, staring at him in silence while he shared tales of visiting the different types of men’s bars in the city. Quite admittedly, I did get a bit of an education, as I had no idea there was a bar just for guys in leather. Wow, the odor that must permeate in such an establishment……the beer, the sweat, the leather, the bodily…….oh never mind. I think you get the picture and you may have vomited by now. Sorry for that.
And finally there’s the “I’ve done that, too” and “Not only have I done that, I’ve done it better”, and “I can top that!” kind of Know-it-All. Don’t you just love that kind? Everyone has a relative or a friend of a friend or a (God forbid) next door neighbor who has done it all and much better than you. These are the kind of people you avoid like the plague, yet they find you. You don’t want to “talk story” with these folks because you are going to lose. For example, you very well may have been a hero and saved an 80-year-old man from drowning in the lake, but I guarantee you that Mr. Know-it-All will have saved an 80-year-old man, his 75-year-old wife and their 3 Chihuahuas from atop their old Buick that was floating away in the big flood. You see? You can’t win. It’s best just to back away slowly until you reach your door, then turn and run inside and bolt the door while saying you’re not feeling well. Of course, he would just yell through the door that his cancerous acne was acting up. Silly you, only having a headache. Had enough by now? Just purchase some pepper spray. It wouldn’t be unheard of. Just sayin…
I love Know-it-All’s. My Dad used to call me that when I was a kid (along with a couple other names I so deserved). I don’t think I was ever really a Little Miss Know-it-All. I couldn’t help it if everyone I talked to was stupid.
(Images from Google Images)