Trying Not To Be “That Guy”

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The rest of this week is going to be a drag. Any joy I feel at having a short week after a long weekend is dried up by the fact that I am required (not suggested, not a choice, required) to attend three full days of training here at the ol’ place of work.

Three. Full. Days.

Somewhere around that time in history when the first smartphone came out, I developed a pretty severe case of adult ADD. I cannot sit still like a good kid for more than an hour at a time. In order to get me to do that, the topic better be damn interesting.

Sneak preview: The topic of this training is not. At all.

The guy giving the training is doing a good job. He is trying his hardest to make this interesting. Cracking a joke here and there. But even he knows this is a drudge and we all just gotta get through it.

And so the first couple hours were fine. It was all new and somewhat interesting. The next couple hours were hell. Part of the “rules of the road” for the class are no open laptops and no looking at phones.

Argh!

So I’m bored. I doodle in the margins of my notepad. I let my mind wander to far off topics (at one point I was wondering if I should cut my nails or keep them a bit longer since they are so strong right now).

And then I run out of things to wander off about and supposedly I’m supposed to be paying attention and learning something and getting something out of this class that my department paid big money to force me to attend.

So then boredom gives way to something else. Something sinister. I become “that guy” in the training class. You know that guy. Or girl. Whatever. You know, the person who participates. Who answers questions. Who offers suggestions. Who always has something to say. That person who everyone is sick and tired of by the end of day one with two more days of class ahead.

I hate that guy! Except when I’m being that guy and then it’s a crap load of fun!





It’s a…you know…big mouth bass. *snork*




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  • Mama Billie

    Read your May 29 piece about Being that Guy. It made me reflect on a time when I was sitting next to our former big boss (in your former NM life) in a horseshoe-style seating arrangement at a day-long meeting with our stakeholders presenting something less-than fascinating. The speaker was a rotund man with his belt tight around the middle of his waist (rotund men have a choice of wearing the belt up high over the belly, down below the belly, or cutting them in two–unlike women who just wear our shirts out).. Anyway, our big boss doodles on his paper and slides over for me to see the words “strong belt'” which of course makes me have to choke back an inappropriate outburst of laughter.

    Those were fun days–like the day we ran to the roller coaster at NY NY in Vegas during the meeting lunch break and almost made it back in time. You’ll look back on all of these training sessions and meetings with some fond memories. I decided to retire when I attended training sessions and realized I was always the oldest (and most experienced and knowledgeable) in the room. Now I occasionally teach “mandatory” courses and would much rather have “that guy” than the bored doodler in the room. I have more of the latter, of course.

    • Karen Fayeth

      LOL, ok awesome memory. Our former little big boss was THE BEST. Truly. Those were some awesome days back then. I often wonder what might have happened if I stayed. Hard to say, really.

      And like you, when I teach a class, I’d rather have someone talking than complete silence. I did ratchet back my more extreme “that guy” behavior and was a better student. It was a good class, pretty decent teacher and a boooooring topic. Hard to make it fun.

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