I wonder how many of us have been told things in conversation which literally rendered us speechless ?
Here's my starter.
Some years ago we had guests to dinner and one man, somewhat inclined to know it all, was talking about parential abuse and supressed memories. He'd got all his information on this subject from a man with whom he'd got into conversation during a train journey.
He said to me "why, it's likely that you were abused as a child !"
Outraged, I replied that my parents had been two of the most loving and conscientious people possible who had provided me with everything a child needs.
"You see" he said, looking around the dinner table with a smug grin, "as I thought, supressed memories".
Me, speechless. But later, to Mrs OFSO, "not having them here again." And we didn't.
Alloa Jnr's first day at school aged 4 1/2, teacher just out of training.. her first day too.. Asks her very first pupil (The bold Alloa Jnr) "And what would you like to do in school today little man?" to which Jnr responds without breaking stride.. "My Daddy farts in bed"...
I came back one evening to find 2 cars parked in my little private car-park (with, at the time a sign saying "private parking" and a chain over the entrance)
Obviously someone had just unhooked the chain & parked there.
So I parked up over the entrance/exit & went indoors to answer an urgent call of nature (well it had been 5 hours non-stop driving)
hardly finished knocking the drops off when there's a mighty banging on the front door, and there's some middle-aged female bright red in the face, quite incandescent with rage.
She proceeded to mouth off and I was so taken aback I just retreated indoors & closed the door.
A young lady with whom I was acquainted briefly annoyed me so much that I told her I didn't wish to see her any longer., partly because I discovered that she was surreptitiously shagging a friend of mine, and charging him for the privilege!
Everything was quiet for a few weeks until I received an email out of the blue attempting to blackmail me for having an 'illegal' offshore bank account. The dumb bitch decided for some reason that it was illegal to have a bank account offshore and she was going to report me to the police.
We had some friends over for a dinner party one night. A friend of the wife brought her cousin along who turned out to be a Born Again Christian and (apparently) a bone-fide prophet of the Lord.
He spent considerable time trying to get the wife and I to 'convert'. during the evening, he asked me if my music was 'christian' , I said that it was Al Dimeola. . He made reference to some of our books: "A handbook on Yoga Instruction", "Wings of Power", Tao Te Ching", "Tales of Mystery and Imagination" and "Lolita". He then asked if I was into witchcraft.
Most of the evening he spent flirting with my wife who pissed me off by giggling incessantly.
Later, as our guests were leaving, he turned to me and said that "The hand of witchcraft is upon you from the sins of your Father" and (get this) "If you ever leave your wife, you shall die screaming of cancer within 7 years...".
I remained silent as the only words that my mouth was likely to form was along the lines of "F*&^% OFF OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU RAVING F#$%^ING D!CKHEAD".
He said to me "why, it's likely that you were abused as a child !"
Outraged, I replied that my parents had been two of the most loving and conscientious people possible who had provided me with everything a child needs.
"You see" he said, looking around the dinner table with a smug grin, "as I thought, supressed memories".
You need to grasp the notion of logical fallacies. That particular one is the false dichotomy, reducing a set of many possibilities to only two - falsely. You weren't abused as a child therefore the only possible alternative is suppressed memories.
It's patent bollocks and I would have said so pointing out the fabricated construct inherent in the argument. It pays to understand logical fallacies hanging around here, for they are the stock in trade of a fair few locals. Tu Quoque, no true Scotsman, ad hominem they're all here.
Having talked for a living, it's pretty difficult to render me speechless. The mother of a friend of Fos did it though - mere hours after his funeral telling me, "You're young, you'll find someone else."
She was right, I have. But it wasn't very helpful at the time! Never argue with an Ulster lady...
I must confess it does not happen often that I'm speechless (a side effect of having worked with teenagers for decades), actually I wish I had been and were sometimes. But once I was unable to answer a question during a class, and it was like that. They were beginners, and of course for someone used to reading words out as they are written, English is kinda-tricky. Usually I practice 'weird' names to get a 'feeling' of the alphabet and pronunciation, and the dialogue was supposed to go like that: "What's your name?" - "Jacqueline Beecham" (or something, from a card they pick) - "Can you spell it?" - "Yes, sure: ..." and the other one took it down and then they compared the card and the manuscript . Lots of fun usually. But in that class there was a lady with beautiful big dark brown eyes, about my age, and more comfortable with numbers than languages (she had said). So, the eyes become darker and darker until she couldn't take it any more and demanded: "How can 'Can you spell it' possibly mean 'Can you say it letter-by-letter' [word-for-word translation] if there are 4 words in one sentence and 6 in the other?" Well, then I was stunned. Apart from lingustic considerations, one would expect the teacher know enough for the first week of classes, at least, wouldn't they?
The other top-three incident was when a canoe capsized right under my nose (and I was there to make sure they won't = show the best route at that specific place) AND the guy claimed it had happened because he had tried to make sure whether my eyes really are that green.
The third one was when a policeman asked why I had not stopped at the STOP sign and I couldn't very well say it's idiotic to stop when there's no-one around, for miles, and it's snowing and almost midnight anyway.
I pointed out to a friend that the front tyres on her car were bald and thus dangerous.
A couple of days later she rang and said she'd had an accident on the way to work and it was my fault. She'd skidded into the back of another car and it was my fault because if I hadn't drawn her attention to the bad tyres she wouldn't have had the accident.
I don't know either ...........! But she was a good few spanners short of a full set.
That's a good story, Tw! A similar one with my Father - I bought him the box where you can put the weekly ration of pills and tablets, as the emergency guys suggested, to make sure he hasn't forgotten to take the critical one. AND yesterday he said (not accused, he's a kind person, but still... ): "I have never forgotten to take the pills, and now that you bought that box I discovered I almost forgot them last night!"
I pointed out to a friend that the front tyres on her car were bald and thus dangerous.
A couple of days later she rang and said she'd had an accident on the way to work and it was my fault. She'd skidded into the back of another car and it was my fault because if I hadn't drawn her attention to the bad tyres she wouldn't have had the accident.
I don't know either ...........! But she was a good few spanners short of a full set.
for female logic, that's perfectly reasonable..
car shopping with Mrs Gear at the moment.. she knows what she wants, spec. etc but with the implicit instructions as not silver, then emails me a really nice one she wants to go look at.. in silver..
Some years ago I worked for a haulage company whose trucks had a fairly distinctive livery. One lunchtime I answered the phone to find myself being ranted at by a man who was so enraged he could hardly speak, but who eventually managed to get out, "One of your trucks has just delivered to the place opposite our office and before he drove away the driver squatted down and defecated beside the truck". So that was both of us rendered speechless!
I calmed him down a bit, then got him to give me the registration number and said I would call him back. The truck seemed a bit old to be one of ours and I quickly found out that we had sold it to a much smaller company who occasionally worked for us on a sub-contract basis. They had taken our name off it, but left it in our colours. So I rang the guy back and gave him the number of the guy who owned it. They weren't the most reputable company - a few months later the same truck was repossessed by a finance company while loading in our depot, with police in attendance as the owner was known to be a bit violent.
working in a garage, young fellow comes in, says "is this Mayfield Motors?"
I led him outside and pointed to the forty foot frontage of the building, which had, painted in 30inch high letters, across the entire width,
"Werneth hall garage "---I managed to ask, "what does that say?"
Our puzzled hero then read it out and was invited to compare the two names...having directed him to Mayfield, I phoned the proprietor and warned him of the imminent arrival.
The lad didn't get the job.
working in a garage, young fellow comes in, says "is this Mayfield Motors?" I led him outside and pointed to the forty foot frontage of the building, which had, painted in 30inch high letters, across the entire width,
"Werneth hall garage "---I managed to ask, "what does that say?"
A little unfair, as very often business premises contain several different companies all trading under one 'umbrella' name.
Secretary comes into the office, announces her Mini won't start, could someone give it a push. Half a dozen likely lads bored with work, surge out of office and push her car three times round the perimeter road. No suggestion of engine firing. My colleague Iain has a dreadful thought, takes off petrol cap, looks inside, goes to secretary sitting in driver's seat, asks the obvious question.
"OH NO" SHE REPLIES, "THERE'S NO PETROL IN IT".
Her answer was given in that tone of voice that secretaries who work for the boss use to indicate their superiority over mere engineers (and men at that), and no, not a hint of levity or the suggestion that the lack of fuel might have been somehow related to the fact of the non-starting.
All of us blokes staggered back into our office and just looked at each other, not a word being said, i.e. speechless.
(She wasn't a blond, either, I've just dug out a photograph to check !)
Postscript: many years later on discussing this incident I said to Iain: "What the f*ck do you think she was playing at ?" and he replied "no idea". We left it at that.
Once, in the bar of an RAF Officers' Mess, in conversation with three or four of my students, a hugely attractive and vivacious brunette mature lady (not a student) took me by the arm and asked, in a far from quiet voice: "Well, ShyT, are you going to **** me, or not?"
Speechless? I nearly dropped through the floor. Not only because of the aforesaid audience, but also her husband was standing only ten feet away.
Some years ago, about to operate on an elderly lady, I remarked that her first name - Loos - was remarkably similar to a well known First World War battle.
Yes, came the muffled reply from under the drapes, when I was born my mother named me after the place my father was killed in action.
Stunned me. Not to mention the lump in the throat and slightly moist eye
. Lots of fun usually. But in that class there was a lady with beautiful big dark brown eyes, about my age, and more comfortable with numbers than languages (she had said). So, the eyes become darker and darker until she couldn't take it any more and demanded: "How can 'Can you spell it' possibly mean 'Can you say it letter-by-letter' [word-for-word translation] if there are 4 words in one sentence and 6 in the other?"
): "I have never forgotten to take the pills, and now that you bought that box I discovered I almost forgot them last night!"
