There is a fellow who lives in the same building as me, actually he’s my resident (I’m an RA) and he can be very ‘difficult’ to listen to. He has an endless number of stories about himself, all horrible, that he tells to anyone who will listen, and the worst part about them is that he talks about people that no one else knows by their names, i.e. “This one time, Billy and Chris…” I mean, we have no idea what to make of his stories because we have nowhere near enough context to relate to him. We have begun to remind him of the fact, but he has yet to really get it, which is unfortunate.