Dear People Who Are In The Elevator With Me

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IO hate how proximity makes people want to know persnal info about me, espiaclly when their ios no chance for anything to develop.

Dear Ayla,

You rock and you're really pretty and I would totally marry you.

Love,
Lee

This happened to me just yesterday: gee, maybe writing this letter will be like therapy.

Dear Man on the Train (who´s name I´ve forgotten again, sorry),

Yes, I know we happen to be traveling in the same direction, but no, I really don´t want to sit on the train with you and talk to you. I was looking forward to listening to my i-pod, and now you´ve ruined that. I know you told me already you want to go out with me, but I´m not like other people; you see, I can´t tell from your body language and facial expressions, after only two 3-minute conversations, what you are like. I have no idea if I want to get to know you better or not; the fact is, I have a hard time getting to know people, it feels like torture to me. However, if you say something interesting to me, I might end up liking you...I´ve had some surprises in the past. Why do you keep just chit-chatting? How else will I ever know if I might like you or not? This small talk is making my whole body tense up...I can barely hear you, as there are too many distractions on the train...I feel your eyes on my face, but I can´t look at you, that´s why I´m staring out the window...gee, I probably should have just told you I`m not attracted to you and want to be left alone, but it´s probably too late, now that we´re already sitting across from each other on the train...you see, I wasn´t expecting to run into you like this, so I wasn´t prepared with a response. How far should my social courtesy extend? Should I be polite, because you´ve talked to me before and we are going in the same direction...or should I tell you to bugger off?...am I just encouraging you by sitting here? You see, I´m not quite sure when I need to be polite, and when it´s "ok" to be rude. I can´t go by my intuition because I don´t really have any. I can see that you are irritated and confused by me. Man, wish I could just explain all this to you, but how??

Dear Macho-Posturing Co-Workers,

Please stop assuming that I am either as obsessed with cars, guns, sports, and women as you, or that I am 'Less than a Man' for not having those same obsessions.

I like my cars to run, and to last longer than the payments I make on them. I no longer buy American-made cars solely for this reason. And I really do not care that you think I'm a traitor, or that you claim that your gas-guzzling monster truck could crush my hybrid car. It's all bluff and bluster, and it does not impress or intimidate me in the least.

I've handled enough firearms, and used them often enough during my military career to be as much of an expert as any one of you. But they are tools, and tools are useless unless put to their intended purpose.

I'll bet a few dollars on the outcome of a game or a race, but I will not argue endlessly over which player is best, which team is best, or which league is best. Just tell me the final score (if I ask) and we'll settle all the bets.

I am married to one woman, and have no interest in compromising my marriage with an affair or 'fling.' Nor am I interested in the porn that you can not seem to go to the bathroom without. And I am most certainly not interested in how large your penises are when compared to a loaf of bread or piece of pastry.

Your macho-posturing on the job is not what you were hired to do. If it were entirely up to me, you'd all be given an antidote for your testosterone poisoning, chained to your desks, and forced to put in a full day's work for your day's wage. Those who revolted would be tossed to the curb, as well.

But I guess you need to ridicule someone in order to feel some measure of superiority, since each of you seem to be married to a bitchy, frigid, ignorant, and stupid women - at least, that's how you portray them. Maybe I should make a mixed-media recording of all your antics, and send copies to each of your wives...

Heh!

Dear UPS bloke:
Alright, yes, I am not having a day off work, I am actually unemployed, I just said that I was on holiday, and wasn't expecting you to ask me to elaborate on where I worked and what I was going to do with myself on my week off. I'm sure you're a nice bloke, and that delivering parcels can be rather lonely and boring, but I just want to sign for my package and go.

My hairdresser was always very good at not talking to me...but kept yapping to the other girls in the shop. She'd stop mid-cut, scissors akimbo, to make some inane comment, or sometimes even walk over to another chair to ooh and aah over some pictures of another customer's grandchildren. I suppose that was better than the place I went to before, a one-woman outfit, where her creepy, drug-addict son was a permanent fixture in the corner. Yes, I do feel your pain, though!

So, I always take the stairs, use the u-scan when at all possible and started growing my hair out last year mostly so I didn't have to visit the hair salon (before that I shaved it for 2 years for the same reason). However...

Dear overly nice, new co-worker:
Yes, I *did* put that box on my desk to "hide". No I don't want to hear about what you did while you were unemployed. No I don't want you coming around my desk. No I don't smile often, quit trying to make me.

Dear other nice co-worker:
Please stop asking me how I am. I will always say "fine" unless I'm having a bad day where my filters fail and then I will tell you way more than you wanted to know.

Dear best friend:
Please don't compare me to my ex-wife when I fall out of contact with you for a few days. I am not an alcoholic nor am I a liar. I am just "hiding" and I've explained that to you before. Get your knickers untwisted before texting me please.

Last edited by AbsoTivity on 22 Oct 2008, 4:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.

well that's odd, i really quite like small talk, it's rather pleasant, i don't mind people talking to me randomly (unless, you know, they start to take the p**s...thankfully, i can tell the difference between an inquisitive person and an abusive one)

i think i like this because i have a big insecurity about not being part of the human race, feeling isolated, alone (of course, the paradox is, in some ways i DO like to be alone, an individual, but in others i NEED human contact) so people being pleasant to me makes me smile and puts any social anxiety at ease.

i'm guessing this stuff you talk about is one AS trait i don't have...x

Dear people,

{sarcasm}

Oh can you PLEASE stop talking to me. You make me look like I'm a good person, which is SO wrong. I SO don't enjoy it.

{/sarcasm}

Dear Well Meaning People,

If you happen to pass by and see me sitting in a semi-dark room, please don´t laugh uncomfortably and then "do me a favor" by turning on the bright light. I am an adult, and perfectly capable of turning on my own light. If the light is off, it is off for a reason. I prefer it that way, even though you may not....

Dear People Standing in the Checkout Line with Me,

Please don´t get into my personal space. If you touch, push, jab or jostle me it´s not going to make the line move any quicker anyway, and you just might push me right to the breaking point...which you don´t want to see, believe me...

I know this isn't the actual purpose of the thread, but I had to share this. A few days ago I was waiting for the elevator to come in my dorm building and this guy came up behind me. He started betting on which one would came first. As more and more people came he insisted on polling everyone, and when we all squeezed in he started asking me which floor of the building was the most important one, the funnest to be on. So I said that the second floor had the video rental and all the mail, and he said, "that's great, I love males, men are great," and that made me very confused. After I left he waved and shouted "thanks for riding the elevator with me!"
I couldn't tell if I was annoyed by him or delighted by his sheer weirdness.

Ooh. That is so me . . .I recognise this whole scenario, but it's interesting to hear an account of it from a bystander rather than kind of being the guy.
When I do this kind of thing it's me trying to cope with a socially challenging situation. Travelling in a lift with people is challenging and the way your man behaved and the similar way that I likely would is a mixture of panic and coping strategy. It's an attempt to be sociable while struggling, though I am more like this when I am in good form. It is the best I ever am socially. Otherwise it's trying to pretend that these people around me don't exist in my dimension.

Dear Dad,

Please try to understand me. I'm not normal teenager but in a good way. Understand that I don't like my integrity questioned everyday; it makes me feel like a criminal. Please know I only talk to people much older than me because I can't relate to people my age. Understand that I don't need stereotypes applied to me; I'm sure you don't like them toward you either. Understand I know a lot more than you did at your age; please don't underestimate me.

Dad, I don't have a friend in the world who truly understands me. Will you be that friend who finally understands?

Your Daughter,

Jill

Same here, my classmates try to be so nice and talk to me, but I don't *want* to play kickball, I'm in my corner sitting like L for a reason. I'd like to observe your playing instead of participate...

Haha! I hate that!

Happens to me in the grocery store too.

Dear customers at Market Basket,

Quit asking me if I'm alright or saying that I don't sound good when I am clearing my throat. It is a habit that I have been trying to f***in get rid of for 15 years!! Also, I do not know you very well, which most certainly does not give you the right to make fun of my quirks. How would you like it if I made fun of you for your habits? When people ask me questions about habits I have trouble getting rid of, it makes me feel like I'm being teased. Do you make fun of other people who clear their throats?
And also, stop coming in with your big huge orders a minute before closing time! I worked my ass off for long gargantuan hours, and I would like to go home and relax now, thank you.


Dear Society,

I want to bloody succeed!! ! I do not want to be stuck in low-paying jobs for the rest of my life. I have the constitutional right to be popular if I want to, whether I'm the biggest ret*d in the world or the King of the World. I desserve a nice house or condo, and a nice home theater system.


Dear Dad,

Stop asking me constantly about Biology. I hate that course, and therefore, talking about it feels more like a taxing chore than random smalltalk.


Dear sister,

Stop telling me how I should be using Giratina! He's my pokemon, and I will use him however I want, Ms. Micromanager. I want my Giratina to be a tank/annoyer, not a sweeper, so quit complaining about the lack of attacks he has. How about you instead help me find a good wall that can work well alongside him in double battles, and also help me find a couple of sweepers that can help cover his weaknesses, Ms. Pokexpert?

No, I do not know what to do if you want to go out, but you can't ask Mom and Dad because they're napping, except MAKE PLANS AHEAD OF TIME, and yes, STOP going out on Sundays so you can recharge. But overall, STOP making me play social therapist everytime you think Mom and Dad are being unfair to you. I don't care!

Stop making fun of me for being obsessed with stereos and ceiling fans. I like them for the same reason you're obsessed with cell phones and social stuff!

Stop telling me how to train my Pokemon, and that EV-training them is cheating. I don't care, they're my Pokemon, I will raise them the way I want to. By the way, you use an Action Replay, how is that not cheating?

Well, it's better than having them bully you and call you names.

Hey Stereokid:
yeah, I think I do that- you know- clearing the throat thing too.