During a conversation with C in a hallway after lunch, he yelled at me, "Stop interrupting me! You're always interrupting!"
I didn't think I had interrupted him, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I shut up and he continued speaking ....
... and he kept on talking. His monologue was mostly one long sentence.
Was I "always interrupting"? Or had he merely thrown a tantrum to get his way, so he could talk and not have to listen to me? I decided to treat it as a scientific experiment, and glanced at my watch to check the time.
When he finally finished his long sentence, which went on for more than 20 minutes, I tried to rejoin the "conversation". He immediately interrupted me, so I shut up again and waited.
C wasn't a close colleague. He worked at the IBM lab where I had a "postdoctoral and junior faculty" fellowship in 1988-89, and we occasionally sat at the same lunch table. I no longer remember what topic he was expounding on, but I remember that it wasn't something about which he knew more than I did.
At an infinitesimal lull, I spoke up to calmly say, "I'm very sorry to interrupt, but I've been politely listening to you for the past half hour. Whenever I think you're done and I try to say something, you start talking again, so I stop. When do I get to speak?"
He berated me angrily for having timed his monologue, before I politely excused myself and walked away.
I mentioned our interaction to a colleague, who reassured me that it was him and not me. He was known for being hard to get along with.
From similar experiments, I've observed that the people who angrily tell me that I'm monopolizing the conversation usually speak for more time than I do.
Alice in Wonderland spent much of her adventures trying to deal calmly and rationally with angry, irrational, unreasonable creatures, mostly older men. Sometimes I feel as if that accurately describes my career.
When I'm tempted to react in anger (in my personal life or at work), I try to remember to take some deep breaths, channel Alice in Wonderland, and say to myself:
"First, self-confidence; then kindness."
When I succeed, it's the self-confidence that enables me to be kind.
And if I do take the floor for too long, I hope that you'll let me know kindly rather than angrily.