Shut The Hell Up!

Have you ever been caught in a conversation that just won't end?
Some people seem to think that because they can form words, they just shouldn't stop. I do not have the gift of gab. I can make a pithy comment every once in a while, but my main forte is listening.
Being a teacher, you have to talk. When I told my friends that I was going to Korea to teach conversational English, they all fell about laughing. I'm not sure if they believe it even yet.
I've listened attentively in school, upon occasion. I've also tuned out when I decided the teacher had nothing more to tell me. I try to be aware of those moments in the classroom when I'm losing them, and switch to doing something else to keep their interest and energy up.
Some people miss those signs, or ignore them. I've had bosses who start talking, just as I'm ready to leave for the day, and continue to chat about this and that before launching into another of their interminable anecdotes.
Sure those stories are interesting the first time you hear them, but it's hard to stifle the yawn during that second or third time.
And then you start thinking that maybe body language will help. So you maybe check your watch quickly, or shift what ever you're carrying to a more comfortable position, or start looking at the door.
But some people even then keep on yammering away, oblivious to your distress. They are fairly launched now, and nothing short of a nuclear explosion is about to stop them.
So then you start looking for that break in the torrent of words, so that you can insert your "Well, it's about that time, isn't it?" But there is no break. The person has become so enamored of their monologue, they believe the glazed eyes and slack-jawed expression is due to awe at their acumen and insights.
And so you drift away, into the land of imagination. What about a swift kick into this guy's groin? Will that shut him up? Maybe I could just start screaming profanities and what I really think of him and his stupid fucking stories.
There used to be a TV show from England called "Billy Liar," about a boy who had these kind of daydreams during his dull, suburban life. They only made one series of that show, and it's a pity. It was a fairly standard British comedy, but the daydreams almost gave it a Python-esque quality.
Eventually the torrent of words is interrupted, or the guy decides that he wants to go, and you're set free. Free to go home, but all the while thinking that you wish the guy would just learn to shut the fuck up.