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Where Is Your Mute Button?

CHRIS just can’t cope with the constant bickering he receives from one of his co-workers and he tells her/him he can’t take much more of it.

Chris:  Is there a mute button inside yourself somewhere so you can stop talking to me because you’re giving me a migraine.  Yap, yap, yappity yap.  Really.  Non-stop action.

I haven’t had literally one second to think.  You constantly parade my ears with your words and I’m starting to feel like I’m drunk.  I am.  I don’t know which way is up.  Like I’ve been drop kicked to the head.

Phew…let me recover here and there between sentences.  Have mercy on me, please.  I can’t even digest half of what you’re saying to me.  (imitating) “Di, di, di, di, di, di, di.”  Wow.

I think I’m getting anxiety.  You talk so much, I think you are gonna talk me into a panic attack.

(puts hand on his chest)

I’m alright…just, take it easy—your energy—intense.  (beat). Am I mean?  I sound mean, right?  I don’t mean to be mean.  I just need you to chill and pull back.  Enthusiasm is great, it’s amazing but not allowing me to do my own work and feeding me a series of idea punches is killing me.

Are we cool?  (beat)  Thanks.

Joseph Arnone

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