Nobody Likes A Dud

I confess that I talk to my cats. No big surprise there. I also talk to myself, yell at the lady driving in front of me, and have ridiculously long conversations with people who I know... in my head. In other words, I can talk all the day long with almost anybody, if only I don't have to actually talk.

This thought occurred to me a few weeks ago when I found myself in a situation surrounded by people. Some I knew. Some I barely knew. Some I had never seen before in my life. In these situations, I'm the person you'll find sitting alone against the wall or quietly in a corner. I'm not necessarily looking for sympathy or for someone to take pity and try to draw me out of my solitude... mostly I am just observing and listening. I typically don't feel the need to join in.

Here's what I don't quite understand, however. I can be listening and know that I have something worthwhile to contribute, but I don't. It's not so much because I think what I have to say is unimportant; it's mostly because I don't want to bother. Whether it's the person talking who I don't want to bother or merely bothering myself in having to actually partake in a social activity, I have yet to figure out.

Case in point.

I listened to a man talk about outlaws in his family. Boy, do I have some outlaws. I can trace my dad's family back to a Pony Express rider and captivate an audience for hours about family members who have been ran out of town after town after town (and we're talking frontier towns here). I heard the same man talk about the Cherokee blood in his family. The husband has all sorts of interesting stories about his ancestors. Shoot, between his family and mine, the Civil War could keep me talking for an entire evening and most of the next day. The point is, and I think you get it, I've got things to say that you won't find retweeted a thousand times over or headlining some celebrity gossip show. Those are the conversations that wear me out and leave me wondering what in the world ever happened to quiet time.

I just don't do well with people. Put me in front of a crowd, give me a microphone and a topic, and I'm surprisingly charming (snickering kids in the background). Give me a white board, colorful markers, and a class full of students daring me to teach them something, and I'll rise to the challenge. Present me with an online forum with people from all around the world and I'll find some witty way to get my point across. Look, just give me one or two people (three at the most), something to eat or drink and a laugh or two, and I'm good to go.

Just don't put me in a backyard and leave me to make small talk on my own. Unless there's a cat involved, I promise you I'll just look like the disappointing dud in a group of fiery firecrackers.

Of course, I'll still be around when the smoke clears...


Hey, I might be on to something there. =)