the last thing you want...is ai-er in the conversaytion.

There's a real phenomenon amongst amatuer conversationalists to tell a story that has no end, just an embarassing fade-out like a bad, bad fart. It's usually out of the conversation to, so it's like this horrible shortcut that never actually connected to the highway again.
But what's most interesting is that there are people who can get away with it. Most people give up or get winded eventually, and during the silence it settles into their oily skin that something is wrong. But then there are the people, those social sirens of the deep, who make a conscious decision, in the very beginning, to fuck up a conversation for their own onanistic satisfaction.
"Oh yeah, cause like one time, uh, me and, well, I don't remember who but, you know, these guys, ha ha..." this wordy will-o'-the-wisp blusters, still fooling so many of your poor fellows, "But, like, we went down to the mall, and, well, it was closed so we had to go eat somewhere else, but, heh, that's another story..." at this point the conversation is just a one-man (or women, likely enough) jack-a-thon. Pushing up their glasses or brushing away hair that isn't long enough to be bangs, they stumble on like drunks on steep stairs, until it finally ends, inevitably, with, "So, you know, yeah. Whatever. Huh huh uh uhuhuh!"
Fuck people man.