The Peeve Of The Week (POTW) is an occasional feature on Slope which allows me to (a) gripe about something which bugs me, whether justified or not (b) put up a post when there's nothing in particular I want to say about the market. In spite of its moniker, the POTW may or may not shown up weekly. In any event, here's a new entry:
I have a working theory that when we are born, each of us is assigned a special frequency code that tells us when to speak and when not to speak. I might be code A, you might be code B, another person might be code C, and so on. There is no superiority of inferiority to these codes; they are simply mutually exclusive and largely unique, and they allow us to have conversations with others without interruption.
99% of the time, this brilliant design lets two people converse in much the same way as a tennis match is held. I speak, then you speak, then I speak – – we volley words back and forth, sometimes weaving in and out of each other's sentences, but never with the uncomfortable awkwardness of stomping on what the other person is saying. A cocktail gathering of six people standing in a circle operates in much the same way, and it goes off without a hitch in spite of the mild inebriation of all participants.
There are occasions, however, when I talk to someone who has been given the same frequency code as me. And that means they start talking exactly when I start to talk. Then we both stop. Then we both start again. Then we both stop again. It gets to the point where I feel the need to find a conch shell on the beach so that the two of us can hand the conch back and forth, giving us the privilege to speak only when said conch is held in a given person's hand.
Since a conch typically isn't handy, I grasp for my second urge, which is to pummel the individual in question. It's not their fault, of course. They just got the same code as I did. Perhaps I'm the only person irked by this, but I can sense some of you nodding their heads right now, so I guess I'm not alone after all.
