When I once asked a trusted friend to describe me, he said much of what I hear from others. But, after he'd "fluffed up my ego" (to use his words), he gave me the Core Truth: "You're lonely."
"Really? How so?"
"In a crowd. In a room full of people, you're alone."
I suppose I am the type to feel alone, especially when surrounded by Homo sapiens. Those who've met me in person know that I'm at my best for one-on-one conversation. Occasionally three. Hardly ever four. When the crowd gets to five-or-more, I just begin to clam up. Why? Beats the hell out of me. Of course, "claming up" has many different manifestations. If I'm thrust unexpectedly into a large group, I'll tend to go silent... if I'm expecting large social gatherings, I'll force myself into conversation, but there's a good chance I'll just start rattling off whatever-the-hell-I'm-thinking. Or, worse yet, I'll splurt out some lie... or start stammering and word my mixed up order getting. Whatever happens, when the crowd gets back to a Managable Number (read: when I'm all alone again), I stop and think, "Wow... that was smart." *grumble*
Of course, I'm not exactly Mr. Smooth Criminal one-on-one, either. Take this jewel, for example. Most mornings, when I get off the bus at work, I take the same entrance in as a man I'd previously identified as a post-doc in a prominent lab. He seems laid back, always smiling and holding doors open. We end up walking through half of the Hutch together before he gets to his lab, and I continue to my own. About ten thousand opportunities passed for me to introduce myself, and I kept telling myself I would. After all, it's no big deal, right? He's a human. I'm a human. We work at the same place. He's a post-doc, and I'd like to be a post-doc someday. He's young like me. He uses the toilet, flosses, farts, and probably snores just like I do. And like I hope the rest of you do.
And yet, each time I'd try to strike up a conversation, my throat would run dry, and I'd end up instead making this sort of throat-clearing grumble noise that would occasionally leave me choking on my own spit.
Luckily, last week, he introduced himself to me. "Hi, I see you on the bus almost every day...."
And a conversation ensued as we walked to his lab. An awkward one. Since I wasn't expecting him to speak, I naturally clamed up. This time, I mostly stuttered and stammered over my words. I didn't see him again until today due to the interview last week, and an odd experiment schedule early this week. Today, I was actually able to ask him about his wife and past graduate studies. And, only half of the time, did my sentences begin with stutters and stammers.
But, honestly, is this shyness, borderline personality disorder, or am I just really a freak of nature? Can I ever do something about this? I tend to be rather set in my ways, so I'm guessing it's here to stay. But, I'd rather not bumble through life, becoming some "crazy" old man stuttering down the road, while local parents advise their children to stay out of my way.
Then again, at least I didn't run into a door while talking to him.
Posted by James at February 16, 2005 09:27 PM