You'll Sort of Know What I Mean as I Discuss Excess Verbiage at This Point in Time

Twenty one times. That’s 21. One score and one. Ten twice and then one. Four fives plus one. Five fours and a singleton. More than double ten.

Yesterday I was at a 12 step meeting where a gentlemen shared, as one does in a meeting and he uttered the words, “ya know what I mean,” twenty-one times. This was not during the course of a one hour oration, he squeezed that dreaded phrase into what was less than five minutes.

Amazing.

There was a chap at a meeting I used to attend who once let forth with 32 “ya know”s but “you know what I mean” is twice as long as — more than twice as long as — a simple “ya know.”

The worst part was that he didn’t once stop to wait for someone to say, “yeah, I know exactly what you mean” or “no, we have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” The nerve.

(You're probably wondering: what kind of idiot counts "ya knows" and "ya know what I means?" Fair point.)

I wouldn’t have minded so much but earlier in the minute someone babbled on for well over five minutes (I didn’t think to time him) in a veritable stream of consciousness covering all aspects of his life and sobriety. The real culprit in this situation was the secretary of the meeting who should have cut him short. Several people didn’t get to share because of Mr. Diarrhea of the Mouth.

It behooves me to hear add that the above events are unusual at meetings I attend. For the most part people are respectful and don’t babble on and on and on when sharing and while verbal tics such as sprinkling “ya know” or “sort of” are common enough, a full-fledged battery of “ya know what I mean” is an extreme rarity. 

I suppose complaining or making sport of people who are merely trying to maintain sobriety is gauche but at the same time we can keep off the sauce and maintain decorum at the same time

Here’s something else: I was changing (clothes) in the gym the other day when a behemoth strode between me and the lockers on his way to his locker. He prefaced this invasion of my personal space with the this: “I’m gonna sneak past you.”

Suffice it to say that his attempt at “sneaking” was an utter failure on several counts. First of all there was  his was odd decision to announce the “sneaking.” If you want to sneak anywhere successfully you should by all means keep your intentions to yourself. Secondly, as a man of well over six feet in height and probably nearing 240 pounds in weight, he had zero point zero chance of “sneaking past” anyone who was conscious. 

In other words, he failed to “sneak” past me. But to me the greater sin is the use of the “sneak past” you line. Why not instead employ proper manners and say: excuse me? I would have much preferred those two simple words to his attempt at being cute. It is akin to when someone announces that they’re going to “steal your salt” as opposed to asking if they can borrow it.

But I suppose even that is preferable to the silent ones who require you to stand up at a theater or sports venue as they shuffle by. There are an increasing number of people who fail to offer an “excuse me” “pardon me” or an “I’m sorry” and virtually no one can manage a “thanks” for your consideration. Here I am exception offering both an “excuse me” and a “thanks.”

Earlier I made brief reference to the overused “sort of.” Some people litter their talks with it. “We sort of met to talk about the issue and sort of decided that we’d sort of form a committee to sort of finalize some sort of proposals.” Enough to sort of drive one sort of crazy.

Lastly my favorite podcasters have taken to using “at this point in time.” I often respond to this by saying aloud: “you mean, ‘now’”? 

“At this point in time” has a cousin I very much hate: “at this moment in time.” It can also be translated to: now. 

I guess that at this point or moment in time sounds more erudite to some people. To other people such as me it sounds like excess verbiage. Which is what it is.