The Conversation

     I am such an idiot.

     You are not.

     Yes I am.

     You may be a self-deprecating sad sack, but I can tell you're no idiot.

     Then how else to explain why, after nearly 40 years on this planet, I still cannot carry on a simple conversation?  Most of the time, I presume you have no interest in me or my thoughts and, to be frank, I have no interest in you or your thoughts, so I sit or stand there in sullen silence yearning to disappear. 

     So that's what you were doing just now. 

     Right, that's my default setting.  And if that's all I did, I wouldn't call it idiocy, I'd call it a latent personality defect and leave it at that.  But once in a while our interests align.  I somehow detect that you're interested in me and, to be frank, your interest in me elevates my interest in you.  I call that an "alignment" but I know it isn't, by the way, for my interest isn't really in you, it's in your interest in me.  Too one-sided for true alignment.

     Oookay.

     Anyways, your interest in me flatters me, what with all that time I spend with people who couldn't care less what I think, and I want more than anything to justify that interest, to validate it, to fortify and feed it before you come to your senses and realize I'm not interesting after all and wander away to find someone more deserving of your attention.  So I shift from reticence to heavy sales mode, unleashing a constant stream of commercial interruptions pitching me me me.  All along I'm wondering how is this playing, is this the right message, I wish I'd worked this out in front of a focus group first, I must hit you with all I have before you switch me off for good. 

     Now you're sounding weird.

     I suppose it is weird.  But it's idiotic too, for I know exactly how to win you over.  The surest way to keep you glued to my words is for me to talk about you, to ask you questions about yourself, to listen attentively to what you say, to periodically shake my head sympathetically, to, in short, shine my light on you.  If I would do this, I'm sure I could convince you that nothing was more interesting to me in this entire world than you.  Yes, you'd be even more interesting to me than me.  Or at least that's what you'd think.

     Sounds nice.

     Exactly.  So why don't I ever do this?  I know how to do it, and I know that it's the most effective method for steering a conversation into a friendship.  I'm not adverse to a friendship or two, especially with those whose minds click in tune with mine, so when I meet such a person why do I always ignore this EZ friendship plan for my sure-fire over-the-top people-repellant plan?

     Because you're an idiot?

     Exactly.  And then I have this other conversation mode, the can-you-believe-what-a-loser-I-am mode, the one I use to bend your sympathetic ear while I open a vein and let it bleed all over you, you know, the verbal equivalent of my writing, a technique that quickly and effectively drives people away—

     —Oh my gosh, look at the time, I've got to run.

     But the party just started.

     See ya!

Comments

[Darko]

Curious. After writing this, did you get up and start walking to get a drink of water? And then run into the wall by the doorway? I ask because after reading this Escherian piece, I did hit that wall. Thankfully, we have an ice machine by the coffee urns. I'll just pack some cubes in a plastic bag and sooth my bumpy head. Co-workers will just sign it off as a weekend remnant.

[stephenesque]

Why not consider trying Inscrutable Chinese Sage mode - stare at people as though you are thinking about them very deeply. They will then unleash their burdens upon you without the asking.

[R J Keefe]

Not interesting after all? My friend, you are altogether too interesting.