I’m still obsessed with the relentlessly gloomy death-of-a-party character once played so winningly–no, that might not be the right word–by Rachel Dratch on Saturday Night Live.
Debbie really hit close to home because we all know this kind of nut:
The type that can burst your fun bubble and suck all the energy out of the room with a quick dose of Ingmar Bergmanesque bleakitude.
I’m talking about the type of person who after you tell them, “I just got my MRI results back and I’m fine!” will respond: “Yeah, but it could have been a slight concussion. That doesn’t always show up on an MRI. Be prepared for lots of nausea and dizziness.”
Or to whom you’ll gurgle, “I just met the man of my dreams,” only to have them respond, “That’s what Eva Braun thought.”
Or who enters a room gurgling, “Three celebrities just died this morning! Who will be next?”
Or who shows up at your birthday party announcing, “I see crow’s feet!”
Or who turns to you on a flight and declares, “Heavy thunderstorms predicted. There will surely be lots of turbulence and maybe even an emergency landing. OK, taking a nap now.”
Or who makes a special call to tell you that the company you work for just made budget cutbacks.
Much as one wants to slip some Gabapentin to these dirge-like critters, it’s probably best to just stand back and let them spew, especially since they’re usually right!
Anyway, do you know a D.D.?
And do you just giggle at their pronouncements or tell them to STFU?