Introverts Unite! Separately & Without Talking
I’m not particularly fond of leaving the house, or talking to people, or even being near people. If you need me for something, text or email. Or even better, just don’t. Don’t come to my door selling solar panels, or pest control, or a new roof, or Jesus. If I need any of these things, I’ll find you or someone like you who doesn’t bug the shit out of people in their homes.
When I was a kid, I was called shy. People came over from time to time to visit my mom and grandmother, and I would go to another room, even hide. I didn’t talk much…when I did, it was very brief. Like many kids, I was taught not to talk to strangers…no problem. I was taught to not say anything if I didn’t have something nice to say…no problem, I just won’t say anything at all to be on the safe side. I was taught children are to be seen, not heard…can we just lump them both in the “not” category?
In high school, “shy” became “anti-social.” I made some friends, but it really wasn’t due to any effort on my part. I kept to myself for the most part, didn’t join in any extracurriculars (okay, just one), didn’t speak up in class unless called upon to answer something about something or other, didn’t initiate in anything involving other kids. I wasn’t a complete shut-in; I went to football games and the hang-out pizza joint (Spanky’s) afterward. I just didn’t try very hard to join with others.
In college, I barely spoke to anyone. If a professor or another student asked me a question, I’d answer it. Otherwise, I was a ghost. I went to parties with my high school friends, I had jobs and had to interact with people there, but that was about it.
As an adult, the term is “introvert.” I’m not nearly as bad as I used to be. I still hang with my old friends fairly often…I enjoy them, and they all know how I am. My wife brought me out of my comfort zone the past ten years…she’s very social and is a helluva buffer between me and other people. And since she’s the love of my life, I’ll go with her to anything with people in it. My dumb job did some of that, too, I suppose. I was in Customer Service for a long time…and those sonsabitches want to call and talk on the phone sometimes. I had team meetings quite often, but I got where I liked those people and enjoyed them almost like I enjoy being with my personal friends. And I’ve had to lead meetings with customers…and speak to them about shit they don’t want to hear. Now I’m training large groups of people…its always online without webcams, but still…yikes! I’ve gotten much better, but I’m always a little on guard, careful to say the right things or not say the wrong things.
I think I’ve got myself figured out…a general reason for my condition. It goes a little something like this…. There’s nearly eight billion (with a B) people on the planet. A certain percentage of those eight billion are total assholes. I don’t know exactly what that percentage is, but I know it’s not zero. Then there’s another percentage of that eight billion who aren’t total assholes, just occasional assholes…maybe they are assholes ten to twenty percent of the time. So, the total probability of encountering an asshole can be represented mathematically as such…
(TA / 8B + (PA * Ox% / 8B)) * T / 24 = probability I’ll meet an asshole in a day
Where…
- TA is Total Assholes
- PA is Partial Assholes
- Ox% is the percentage of time a Partial Asshole is being assholish
- T is the Time (in hours) I spend in public
Okay, I don’t know math, but I know it’s a mathematical fact…there’s a certain probability of running into an asshole which depends on how much time I spend in public.
Of course, this “Asshole Principle” doesn’t only apply to me. It applies to each of the 8B people on the planet (and I suppose those few lucky bastards on the ISS to a much, much lesser degree). We all run the risk of running into an asshole wandering the world. We all react differently. I prefer to go home and type about it.
Here’s a little story. When I worked in an office, I’d go home for lunch because it’s only ten minutes away, and I prefer my own food and toilet. One day, I was maybe halfway home on a two-lane blacktop and going a moderate speed…maybe five over the limit. Well, that wasn’t fast enough for the guy in the black Lexus behind me. He tailgated for maybe ten seconds, then decided to floor it and pass me. I just casually gave him the finger; didn’t even imagine he saw it. Well, he did see it, and he lost his shit. He slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the shoulder…I guess he wasn’t in such a hurry after all. I, not giving a shit, passed him and continued on my way. He quickly caught up, pulled along side (in the opposing lane) and began inching closer like he wanted to trade paint. He lowered his passenger window and began yelling something, so I lowered mine and yelled, “What are you gonna do?” I was just astounded that someone who drives like that could be so offended over a middle finger. So, he pulled ahead of me as we approached a red light, stopped, got out of his Lexus wearing shop coveralls, and approached my truck, flexing and ranting about my middle finger. He said something about me getting out of my truck and I said, “No! Why! You’re in such a hurry but you just missed the light!” and I pointed at the traffic signal which was now green. He came toward the door like he was going to punch me, so I cocked a fist and I guess he thought better because he just screamed some more profanities as he went back to his car. Albeit this is an extreme case, it’s the example that comes to mind when I imagine what new asshole I might come across out in the wild world.
By the way, yes, I was an asshole for giving him the finger, but it was really just meant for me…to tell myself, “Yeah, there’s dicks on the road, but what’re ya gonna do.” And if he wasn’t expecting a finger, why was he looking in the rear view after passing? I think this dude was pissed about something else and looking for a fight. Anyway…
It seems to be getting worse. Every other day you hear the news about some asshole taking shots at some other asshole over some stupid shit, or some asshole stealing some shit, or some asshole getting thrown off a plane for some stupid shit. Seems there no limit of stupid shit people are willing to be an asshole about.
I admit, part of it is me. I used to consider myself a very patient dude. Not so much lately. Even when people aren’t assholes, I still don’t want them in my path. The grocery store has become a real pain in my introverted ass. When I pull in the parking lot and see it full of cars, I’m already taking a mental Xanex and preparing myself for the frustrations induced by people who are oblivious to my presence and my desire to just get around them in the aisle! A lot of them are too busy with their phones to notice me and several others are waiting for you to pick a freakin’ cucumber and move your GD cart out of the way! Others are just poor folks who have to bring their six kids with them because they can’t get a babysitter just to go to the store and they all decide to play tag in the dairy section (except the toddler who’s been screaming for twenty minutes because he couldn’t have a SpongeBob-whatever-the-fuck). Condoms are in the health and beauty aisle, ma’am. And now there’s all the personal shoppers with their giant ten-level carts blocking traffic while they go pick out somebody’s specific brand of Texas-shaped tortilla chips and a jar of chunky, mild Pace picante sauce. Can you guys do this bullshit at night or at least not during peak shopping times? Sonuva…! So, am I the asshole for getting upset just because people exist in public? Probably. Yeah, I have to concede that.
Okay, the pandemic was terrible and we’re all glad it’s over. But can we just hang on to social distancing for another ten years? Twenty? Just long enough for technology to advance enough so flying drones will bring me tacos and toilet paper once in a while?
-Big Steve