I have a business associate who uses big words.  Really big words.  In abundance.  It’s like being trapped at the Scripps-Howard spelling bee.  I often find myself asking for a word’s origin or definition.

Now, I like to think my vocabulary is broad and quite extensive.  I’m a wordsmith and have a love of the English language.  The guy in question speaks with such an air of authority, you’d think he was a member of Mensa.  Uh, he’s not, but you wouldn’t know otherwise.

For instance, he can’t say hairy … he has to use the word hirsute.  He peppers words like eponymous and scintillating and anaphylactic in to sentences where they clearly don’t belong.  And I’m left to wonder if he knows what he’s saying or just trying to drive his subordinates insane.

My interaction with him is limited.  Seems like a nice enough human being.  But, boy, can he make me feel daft … er, stupid.  It could be worse I suppose.  He could make up nonsensical words like George W. Bush.  But, to date, I’ve never heard him use the non-word “stratergery” in a sentence.

I even went so far as to subscribe to Merriam-Webster’s “Vocabulary Word Of The Day”.  I figured if I can’t beat ‘em, I might as well join ‘em.  Now I feel armed with a bevy of bon mots that I have at my disposal.  It’s like having a loaded weapon that you’re waiting to use … and knowing there’s more where that came from.  I have a complete arsenal of ammo at my disposal.  Too bad I know he’ll still trump my ace by using “egregious” in some way, shape or form.  (And, no, I don’t know what that word means.  AND I’m too lazy to grab a dictionary.)

I do a lot of nodding and smiling when I’m around him.  It seems to work well.  Recently, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror outside his office and I looked like a crazy person.

After he’s done talking, he’ll typically cross his arms and wait for a response.   Once, without explanation, I laughed like Beavis and said, “That was cool.”  I’m still not sure why I did that.   He then launched in to a five-minute diatribe about something else.  It’s as if Rainman had ADD, Tourette’s syndrome and a thesaurus.   I tuned out after the first 12-seconds.  He lost me after the words vichyssoise, quintessential and Machiavellian.

I’m a simple man who uses simple words … like “the” and , and”.  Let it never be said that I am guilty of solecism.  (Go look it up.)