People Weird me out Sometimes

I’ve got a half-brother, but I grew up an only child.  I think that led to a few personality traits I developed later in life.  You see, I didn’t live near any of my friends because we lived in between a bad part of town and the commercialized area.  With my Uncle’s habit of wandering the house in tighty-whities at the time, not a lot of people wanted to come hang out.  I was always happy playing with myself.

Ok, pervs, that’s not what I meant.

I would sit in my room and play with my LEGOs and read comics and stuff, or watch the stuff I had secretly recorded the night prior on Cinemax.  Don’t get me wrong here, I loved being social.  It just didn’t work out that way as much as I’d have wanted.

As a result, I grew to be a quiet kid outside of my particular social set.  A few people loved me, a few people hated me, and I knew who I could count on.  If I didn’t know you, I’d probably just keep my trap shut.  I hated this about myself.  I thought it was weird because you don’t see anyone like that on TV, and honestly, what was I supposed to compare myself to?

I started, and I don’t even know when, to force myself to be fun and outgoing.  It was awkward at first, but if I seemed confident, nobody questioned it.  Occasionally someone’s like “Hey, you never really talked before” but I’d explain that I had kept to myself because I could see the future then and I didn’t want to accidentally destroy space and time by giving away too much information, but that a subsequent bump on the head when I was playing [popular sport] outside of school left me powerless (in that way) so the world was safe.

Yeah, I’ve always been this weird.

I don’t really remember the process anymore, but I’m sure it was awkward for a while.  I’m sure it felt like a lie for a long time.   What I can tell you now, is that I will strike up a conversation with almost every stranger I meet and try to make them show their personality.

Some people don’t have personalities.  Particularly cashiers…  Sorry, maybe you are/were the only one…

The Mrs and I have a lot of shindigs when we can, and she and most people that know me well, label me a “social butterfly”.  Butterflies are dumb, so I’m going to go with Social Antelope.  It just feels right.  I managed to basically fix myself.  Now, why only basically?

Well, I still have ridiculous social anxiety.  I just keep it under the hood.  I think in most cases, like if I have to speak to a large group, or to a high-level manager or something, I’m running on adrenaline and slowing everything to the point that they can’t tell.  What do I mean?

I have pre-set things I will say when I see someone in passing.  I don’t have anything to say, but I say something like “Heyhowsitgoing” as one word, just so I said something and didn’t seem weird.  If a pretty girl talks to me, I’m still stunned and carefully measuring my every breath, movement and reaction like I’m going to break something.  “But, KYA, you’re happily married to the Mrs!  What’s this about?”  You’re right.  It’s not that I’m hoping I have a chance, I just can’t help it sometimes.  It’s stupid.

I look for ways out of a conversation that is going too well because I don’t want to exercise this in large doses, particularly if I haven’t been talking much that day.  Shit, if I’ve been indoors all day without interaction, God help the first person who talks to me.  I’ll jabber incessantly, over-aware of the stupid things I’m saying, then announce that I’m being weird and that I’m trying to fix it.

It’s like the unsuccessful speech I had in Speech class once, where everyone was laughing with good reason, things started going way off track and I stopped them by saying “Everyone stop looking at me!!!”.  yeah, the room fell silent and I pretty well had to pass that off as a moment of temporary insanity.

Overall, the system works.  Being a designer/developer, I’m allowed to be weird and social at the same time.  Except one time more recently at a previous job when I and a friend stood outside the office, shooting the breeze.  A girl we worked with came by and said “Ooh, top secret conversation” and we went on to joke about how we were secret agents.  She smiled and walked inside, but just before she cleared the door I managed to yell “I have a knife!”.

What. The. Fuck.

I’m amazed I wasn’t arrested.  I mean, I did have a pocket knife that I carried all the time, so under questioning it wouldn’t have sounded like a joke.  It would have been a violent threat and I’d have gone to jail.  It’s a good thing she was a complete dingbat.

…And that was the time my social anxiety almost put me in jail.

Do you have any stories like this, or am I just a big weirdo whom you’ll no longer be reading?