NTKOG #163: The kind of self-narrating narcissist who, so convinced that others are offended by her subtle eccentricities, grabs your elbow and explains her side of the story.
I am: writhing in constant fear that other people judge me for being weird (true) or inconsiderate (hopefully false).
I am not: either insecure or self-confident enough to soothe these vague fears with any ointment more potent than constant stewing.
The Scene: A trio around Cambridge:
Neurotic dialogue the first: On a crowded 66 bus, hurtling me from work to Harvard Square. An adorably bookish brunette crowds next to me and — when the bus empties in Allston — is too absorbed in her novel to slide to the other end of the three-seat row. I close my book and move to another seat, in the process, dislodging my skirt, which had been pinned under her thigh.
TKOG: I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to bother you! I’m just moving to an empty seat.
Bookish Brunette: Oh, I could have slid over a little bit.
TKOG: No, no. I don’t find you personally offensive. It’s just the geometry of the situation. You were completely pleasant to sit next to.
BB: [pause] Thanks for explaining. I always kind of worry when people move away from next to me. It makes me wonder if I’m fat.
Oh my heart. She couldn’t have been lovelier! After her confession, she shot me a quick smile and, later, when we got off at the same stop, we made eye contact and smiled again before walking our separate ways.
Neurotic dialogue the second: At the Harvard Square Upper Crust, where I eat perhaps too often. Every day after work, I take the bus into Cambridge, grab a slice of the day at Upper Crust and — while eating it — plan my daily writing session in my battered Moleskine. There are healthier places to eat, sure, but I am a creature of habit. Which never bothered me until two weeks ago, when the meltingly handsome pizza slinger entered my name on the order without having to ask first.
TKOG: I guess I come here a lot. But I don’t live around here — I come here after work because I’m kind of a writer and I write at Peet’s all evening, but I need to grab dinner first, and … you guys always have such good music?
Pizza Guy Of The Gods: Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I eat pizza every day.
TKOG: But you have an excuse.
PGOTG: Yeah. That it’s the best food ever.
He still enters my name into the computer without my prompting, but now he makes eye contact with me and smiles when he does it. Also: he totally started giving me an undeserved student discount, which I SUPER APPRECIATE, SIR!
Neurotic dialogue the third: Harvard Square Peet’s Coffee, where I tweet, computer-dance, and sometimes even actually write for at least three hours a day, five times a week. About a week into my relationship with Peet’s, while I ordered my last iced tea of the night, closing-shift barista putting up chairs and dancing her mop around my feet. Dug through my wallet frantically for change, then tilted up my face, chagrined:
TKOG: I’m sorry, this is awkward. I come here a lot, but I’m a debit card person. I literally never have cash. But I love you guys and want to tip you! Is there any way I can put tips on my card in the future or something?
Barista: Sorry, you can’t. But there’s no need to tip!
TKOG: No, I love you guys. I’ll start carrying cash.
Which I did. And guess who’s eating a free lime-poppy seed muffin AS WE SPEAK?!
The Verdict: Huh, I always thought the solution to being hopelessly eccentric was either to pretend to be normal all the time, or else rock your oddnesses with such audacity that no one would ever think to question you. My whole “nobody cares what you do,” theory, don’t ya know. The middle ground of justifying your actions had seemed the worst possible compromise. And yet, that’s not at all how it turned out.
Maybe I’m not the only person craving small, positive disposable interactions every day. Maybe there’s something to be said for being no more than human, and having a sense of humor about it.
Also, dude, she totally just gave me another free muffin to eat for breakfast tomorrow. This world is too good to me sometimes.
{ 20 comments… read them below or add one }
Wow, maybe I missed something or it’s too early in the morning, but I can’t see anything in those three instances that’s not completely appropo?! And charming!
So now I want to move to Boston and live your life.
Especially the 15-hours-a-week of uninterrupted writing.
And that’s not counting the eight-hour days on the weekends. :-x Truly, I count myself among the blessed that I have so much time to pump into my writing. I know all of that will change once I get a boyfriend, friends, pet, mortgage, kids, etc. Which is why I’m putting off getting all of them for as long as possible!
I loved this post. And no…I think that your actions are endearing.
It just sounds like you are conscious of the feelings of those around you. Ya’ know, like old world throw back to being aware you aren’t the only human on the planet. Just another quality people who know you would find awesome. Nothing to fret over, by any means. :)
Could you perhaps be a little cuter?
Life totally is all about those little interactions!
I do things like this all the time. Like last night I’m sitting in my new favorite Italian restaurant, solo, reading FDR’s bio, trying to destress from the stress of moving (OMG), drinking some wine and eating the best pasta dish of all time (rigatoni alla norma – pasta with ricotta, eggplant, tomatoes and fresh basil). I’m getting ready to leave and I thank the server profusely, going on and on about how I’ve eaten here like 5 times and the service is always great and the food is awesome and….he kind of just tilts his head and gives me a startled deer in headlights look, and says ‘thanks. i’ll pass that on.’ No smile, total confusion.
Was it something I said?
See, I get reactions like that sometimes too! I love to be a little bit chatty with people (as long as I’m not impeding the flow of business), because I’ve worked behind a counter before, and I know it can be dehumanizing! But so often, when I’m out with friends, they get extremely embarrassed when I chat with servers or cashiers. And sometimes the employees themselves give me that unamused stare of mild horror!
I think these were all completely appropriate. People should talk to each other more often!
Aww. You seem like a totally awesome bus companion. I wish public transportation was like that in my world. Instead you get stuck next to people who cut their fingernails or make out with each other.
Oooh, recently I was stuck sitting next to a gross undergrad PDA couple. She was sitting on his lap and I think they might have been having a nasty fight slash maybe pregnancy scare, because he kept hissing stuff at her like: “I’m going to punch you in your sleep. I’m going to push you down the fucking stairs.”
But then out of nowhere they started making out like crazy. They were so into it, in fact, that after about thirty seconds she somehow shifted halfway onto my lap and I was awkwardly pinned intra-make-out ’til the next stop.
“holla! (challah?)”
And that, right there, my dear, is why I am absolutely in love with you and your blog.
This post totally jives with me today. I was out flyering stores for my play (yeah, I’m gonna link it like it’s my job, cause it’s my job: http://kck.st/cz7pPJ) and I got totally absorbed in mini-convos with a variety of store owners. A group of 5 ladies working at a battered women’s shelter loved my accent, I told a flowershop owner how much I liked her store, and she sent me to a mini-cupcake place where they gave me a free cupcake and offered to possibly co-sponsor one of the performances. I almost never interact with random strangers, and just like this post, the interaction sounds awkward in your head before you start, but you just do it and discover how interesting strangers can be.
That sounds like a completely lovely day! It helps that you’re one of the all-time charming guys in the universe — but it’s so nice to just take a few extra seconds and interact pleasantly with strangers for no reason! People appreciate it! Baked goods are frequently thematized!
Also, for the edification of the NTKOG-reading public: I’m seeing Muscles’s play in Brooklyn on May 7, 2010, and YOU PROBABLY SHOULD AS WELL. We can get a drinky-drink afterwards. It will be magical.
I think the pizza slingslanger might be sweet on you…..I think you should ask him out…or are you Not TKOG? Come on….I would but, Boston is a little far for me to drive for a date.
Oh man, I so wish that were the case! Alas, this guy is miles and miles out of my league.
You were just being super nice, appreciative and sweet. Complimenting or smiling at people, totally makes their day & makes them want to make yours.
It was nice to read this. I’m glad to know that explaining one’s idiosyncrasies doesn’t make other people feel uncomfortable and that it is actually kind of endearing.
Once when I was in college, I asked a boy surrounded by vacant desks if anyone was sitting in the vacant desk in front of him. Even though there was clearly no one sitting in that VACANT desk, he was nice and simply said, “no.” But I couldn’t leave it at that and minute or so after sitting down explained why I had asked the question–it had something to do with a water bottle being sort of near the desk. He chuckled and now five years later, we’re married.*
*OK, so we’re not married, but everything I wrote before that was true.
Dear, the apple does not fall far from the tree.
If your blog were a movie, this post would be a charming montage of you makin’ friends and gettin’ discounts.
p.s. Your blog should SO be a movie.
p.p.s. Really. I swear that wasn’t the wine talking.