As she sat with her legs crossed, she observed the room and quickly sized up everyone. Most of the women in the room worked; she didn’t. And, she most definitely wasn’t interested in conversations about work life. She had nothing to contribute and she wasn’t going to sit there as a silent spectator. Fragments of the conversation hung in the air like dust motes – it was time to intervene.
So she interrupted the flow in typical fashion. She was very good at that – ruthlessly slicing a discussion that didn’t include her. “I think,” she began and from thereon, like a skilled and brash driver, she steered the attention towards herself. Now she was in her element, in full flow as she expounded on her opinions on everything – from cooking to fitness (didn’t matter that she was 20 kilos overweight; theoretically, she knew much more about the topic than anyone else!), from bringing up children to her very strong view on politics, from religion to how to keep the bathroom clean. The soliloquy went on…and on…and on. The glazed eyes of listeners were not a deterrent; she never noticed! Attempts to interrupt the torrent of non-stop, non-interesting, nonsensical jabber were adroitly deflected; her loud voice could drown out everything.
Finally, lunch was served, and being a foodie, she was the first at the table. The gathering heaved a sigh of relief as she busied herself with putting her fork to her mouth. At least till lunch was over, after which she would give her unasked for expert opinion on the food, peace reigned!