Yes, hate is a strong word, and it's a shame to have to use it because mumblers on a whole seem to be decent people. It's not really that individual mumblees are hated, exactly. It's more like collectively we all hate dealing with them and feel ready to scream within about 2 minutes of the first interaction. If you're baffled by this concept, then you're likely part of the problem; you're a mumbler who is unknowingly driving everyone mad with your low talking and lack of enunciation.

Here's what it's like trying to talk to you:

Phase One. The First Attempt.

The scene begins with a non-mumbler needing to speak to you about something. Maybe we're at a party and we'd like to make small talk. Perhaps we're at the office and we need to know about the status of a project. You may even be employed at a business that we patronise. In any event, an inquiry is made by us. You provide a response that sounds like "Mphf Mphf Err Mphf." A blank look comes to our faces. We assume we weren't listening properly and ask you to repeat with a kind, "I'm sorry?"

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Phase Two. The Second Attempt.

Upon our second attempt at receiving the answer results in the same bizarre series of syllables. We are no closer to having a response that we can use in any meaningful way. A nervous laugh escapes us. We wonder if our ears are filled with wax. We give you an apologetic smile, an unspoken plea to give it another go. We may even ask again to repeat your words.

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Phase Three. The Third Through Whatever Attempts.

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Now, we understand what's going on. Our ears are just fine!! It's your mouth that is the problem. Depending on just how much of a problem, we ask you to repeat yourself at least once more to up to five, eight, fifteen times, who knows. The situation is becoming more desperate...

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Phase Four. The Inward Struggle.

At this point, we're starting to feel very badly. You keep smiling and you seem so nice. This must be embarrassing for you! What in the world are you trying to say?!? Why can't we just--

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Phase Five. The Moment of Truth.

And then finally, FINALLY, either our hearing adapts or you manage to form your syllables. We understand...but then...?!? That's it. All that work for such a simple, short answer.

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Phase Six. Suspicion.

We find ourselves wondering if you really ARE a nice person. Perhaps this is all a sick game of yours, making us beg for such a simple, silly little series of words. We distrust you immensely. We fight not to glare.

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Phase Seven. The Awkward Departure.

The idea of conversing with you further is the absolute worst thing we can imagine. We find the quickest method of escape, even if it involves making asses out of ourselves by promptly fleeing.

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So there you have it, Mumbler. Either you're a sweet person who's too shy to speak up or you're a complete bastard who likes to sadistically fuck with everyone you meet. We don't know what to think, but we wish to Hell you'd change your ways.

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