Smoker's Social Hour

I had just got home from class and was making my famous heart attack potatoes, when I realized something: The non-smokers are starting to join the after class smoker's social hour. Yay! There's so much more fun to be had when there's more people to share it with! I've also noticed that we're picking up people from outside of our class too. They don't stay as long or contribute as much, but they do stop in for a visit from time to time.

This got me wondering, what is it about a group of people conversing that draws the masses like a moth to flame? I know that I'm insanely curious by nature, but I never really thought about everyone else being that way. Still, I imagine that what they see makes them wonder what's going on. There's people laughing, pointing at papers, waving their arms around, and running in circles like a dog after its own tail. People must wonder if they've walked into a Pentecostal church. Some are speaking in tongues, others are flailing about on the ground, and a preacher is slapping others on the head saying, "I have exorcised the demon! Can I get an Amen!?"

Next, I wonder how many of these people find themselves in a conversation they don't wish to be in? I've been in that situation before. There's been many a time that I've stopped or been stopped by an old class mate for "catch up" time, only to discover that I really didn't want to know what they've been doing for the past five or so years. Sometimes, it's because my life looks so pathetic in comparison. Sometimes, it's because their life, that they are soooooo excited about, just bores me to tears. "Uh huh, uh huh, yeah, you got yourself a little teacup chihuahua named Pookie. He's learned to bark on command. Musta been hard. I mean, chihuahuas hardly ever bark. And you say it only took five years to do this? Wow! I'm so impressed." I guess everyone has their own little "Pookie" story to tell though. I mean, I start most of my conversations with new people with the line, "I had three kids in one year!" I'm pretty sure that there are people who think, "She can stop there and I'll be fine."

I guess I'm lucky. Most people respond with that innate curiosity, after which, I get to tell them all about my precious babies. After that, it naturally leads to the subject of my ex husband, for which I have hours of ammo. And if ever you start finding yourself daydreaming of a tropical island while I rant, you have permission to slap me on the head and say, "I have exorcise the demon!" You never know, it might bring some new people into the conversation.