rant

A Beginner’s Field Guide to the Loud-Mouthed Schnook

It never fails  Whatever class I take, whatever restaurant I choose, whatever tour I take, whatever cake I bake, I run into a loud-mouthed schnook.  I am sitting in a work shop right now.  If you follow me on Twitter, you can see my tweet asking for someone to come and deal with him for me.  No one on Twitter has taken me up on it thus far, but several classmates are devising a plan.

I divide loud-mouthed schnooks into several categories. Here are five:

1.  The I-am-a-#&(%)#ing-genius-and-must-show-you-by-talking-loudly-making-your-ears-bleed-as-I-hammer-in-the-same-point-over-and-over-and-over-and-over-again loud-mouthed schnook.  This one believes that the more loudly he drums his vast array of knowledge into your brain, the more you will be impressed by his genius as you sink to the floor in demoralized defeat.  Lack of facts or logic is overrun by repetition and volume.  My inward monologue generally follows along this line: Shut up shut up shut up shut up.  You are a moron and must be killed. I shall kill you with fire.  No, too easy.  Someone must bring duct tape, an emery board, and a teaspoon.  I’m not sure what I would do with duct tape, an emery board, and a teaspoon, but I know that it would bring a messy, horrible, painful death.  Sometimes I end up actually saying shut up out loud.  This has been known to get certain people (me) in trouble.

2.  The restaurant loud-mouthed schnook.  This person generally provides what she sees as an entertaining running commentary on the menu, the food, the decor. She must say everything at full volume so that her fellow diners can enjoy her scintillating wit and expertise in gastronomic delights.  “Oh look, they have twaddled turnips in a root beer-balsamic glaze with fresh roasted mice on the side.  You like that, but mice make you gassy.  I wonder if they can substitute grilled baby birds for the mice.”  The tone of voice is generally as pleasant as a guinea fowl – strident and somewhat nasal.  She spends the next fifteen minutes interrogating the waiter about if the baby birds are plucked and if the clubbed baby seal gelato is organic.  She looks around to make sure we have born witness to her culinary expertise and sublime taste.

3.  The waiting room loud-mouthed schnook.  “It had puss coming out from the scab, so I picked it.  The doctor had to lance it, and I have never seen that much blood in all my life.  I have a mole growing on my…” Delicacy keeps me from continuing this particular conversation, but I assume the reader is familiar with the situation.

4.  The cell phone loud-mouthed schnook.  Not much needs to be said about this type.  Mix together a cell phone, an arrogant baboon, and an amazing lack of self-awareness.  Stir in one cell phone in a public place.  Voila!

5. The all-of-the-above loud-mouthed schnook.  I am sad to say that this is a very common type.  You are taking an innocent bite into your bacon double cheeseburger when you hear, “OMG! They have buffalo ice cream cake with asparagus sauce!”  The annoying bouncy ring tone fires up.  “Yeah.  He prescribed the biggest suppositories I have ever seen.  I have to use Vaseline to…oops, gotta go – the food’s here.”

This field guide will continue if someone else pisses me off tomorrow.

 

One Defensive Position Against the Loud-Mouthed Schnook

One Defensive Position Against the Loud-Mouthed Schnook

Categories: rant, rave, Uncategorized

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4 replies »

  1. Oh my dear cousin. How I miss you and your ramblings. How I miss your dry wit and humor. Of all of the Sharps you were and are, by far, the smartest and my favorite. I owe you a story BTW.
    – Guess who. I’m Gene Fletcher but that’s my pseudonym.

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