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Who Are You at Parties?
The listicles you see everywhere that group us by temperament, introverts for example, are often complete bollocks.
“11 Examples of Things Not to Say to An Introvert”
Fuck off. You don’t know what I’m about! I can sometimes be quiet and repressed and then a single song can make me beam like the noon day sun. I wake up one day after a strange dream and suddenly I’m a different Aaron, I’m dazed and confused, in a constant state of distraction. My internal monologue becomes a kind of hypnotists. My attention is hijacked and my social skill-set takes a back seat
Other times, I’m up and about, high-fiving street sweepers and telling jokes to the locals like a town jester.
Same with parties. If I arrive and can find no social role, usually that of story teller or comedian, I feel clipped, and in turn I become pensive and hesitant. It’s a right mind fuck. I stand there, looming over a couple of preoccupied interlocutors like a conversational vulture, waiting for a chance to steal a morsel of attention.
Other times I’m the fucking knees! Strangers turned friends shout, “Don’t go man, please! Stay!”
Everyone around them cheer for my continued company.
