There are probably a dozen or so people I don’t see often and it’s a good thing. Not that they’re annoying, in fact, they can be pleasant to a degree, but they like to ‘get’ me. It’s like the moment they see me they have to be funny. Trust me, I’m not that funny in person. Here is what a great friend, who has known me for years, has to say,
“He’s not funny.” Said Scott Randolph. “He’s sort of an idiot, really.”
See? And he knows me.
But there are people who get competitive with me. It’s as if they have to be funny because of me not because there’s a need. The worst part is they go into their odd non sequitur world. A normal conversation turns into an absurdist conversation for reasons I’ve never understood.
I had to meet with someone to discuss a show they wanted to do. We went over their notes, it was pleasant, and became even more pleasant when he said he’d buy me beer.
He’s walking up to the bar when a guy approaches me. I’m good at faces but not names. But this guy was good at both. He says some things about me, then says, as a matter of fact, he thought of me just the other day (CA-Reep-E). I smile and, well, that’s about it. I know the face but nothing else is ever going to come. So, like the idiot Scott says I am, I stand and smile.
I can see the guy coming back from the bar and so can this guy. Sensing his time is drawing short he begins. Aw, fuck! He’s one of them absurdists.
Let me explain, these dozen or so people begin telling me these off the space shuttle stories (that always contain time travel) and then ask me questions that mean nothing, go nowhere, and, truthfully, never have made a shred of sense to me.
“So, Chris, what keeps you up at night?”
I know I could answer, ‘I sleep like a baby.’ but how many people do you want to know you suck your thumb and shit yourself in your sleep?
The problem is, if I don’t do some type of ‘humorous’ response they’ll keep it going until they get what they’re looking for. So, to that question, I answer,
“Wondering why eggs don’t taste like chicken.”
My friend arrives and hands me a beer. He looks at me with a look that asks if I need help. I nod him off and wait for my opening to close. The guy knows he’s losing me so barks out another question,
“Do you have a secret skill?”
“Yeah, I draw awesome straight lines.”
AH! Okay, stupid. But what was it Scott said earlier? Don’t bitch, you were forewarned.
My friend settles down but is keeping a close eye on the proceedings. I hear the next question and know this is the one that’ll bail me out.
“If you could be anyone in the world who would it be?”
“Yeah, ’cause then I could have stopped this conversation before it began.”