I hate silence. It is awkward and uncomfortable and does nothing but confuse the fuck out of me. I’d rather have a string of curse words, a misplaced comment or incoherent babble. At least it gives me something to work with.
Consequently when I am around people/strangers, I will inevitably say something that I’ll regret later on. Still, it beats standing around saying nothing and looking at your shoes. At least, that is what I keep telling myself.
Let me illustrate.
My friend Brad has a flat on the fifth floor of a building not far from where I live. His landlord is a large alcoholic beast who is trying to bring loud Hawaiian shirts back into fashion. Somehow I can’t see that happening.
He is the kind of man who thinks the word “fuck” and its many derivatives are mankind’s greatest invention. He uses it as a noun, pronoun, adjective, verb, adverb, and preposition. Yeah, he is an absolute pro at using the English language.
He probably also thinks that I am a prat, because my pants actually covers my arse–crack and the elastic band of my underpants does not constantly extend 3 inches above the waistline. On the odd occasion he asks me how I’m doing; I don’t use words like “yo”, “phat” and “what… what”. Nor do I make crude sexual gestures with my thumb and middle finger.
Whenever I visit Brad and get into the lift on the ground floor, he gets in with me. It never fails. I swear he watches me as I pull up and then quickly makes his way to the lift to wait for me. Perhaps he feels the need to escort me or perhaps he’s just making sure I don’t relieve myself in the corner. Perhaps he hopes I will relieve myself in the corner, so that he can beat the crap out of me or make me his bitch.
He hardly ever speaks to me. Instead, he stands very close to me and breathes heavily like overweight people do. I can usually smell that he’s been hitting the bottle hard the night before.
Just when I get the feeling that he’s about to crush my windpipe between his chubby fingers, I break the uncomfortable silence by uttering something that I think will be of interest him. He somehow seems offended by everything I have to say. This Saturday was no exception.
”Thank God it’s the weekend. Time to kick back and crack a few beers”
He grunts and says,”Everybody’s not as fucking lucky as you are. Some of us fucking work for a living. I can take one look at your fucking hands and tell you that you’ve never done a day’s hard work in your fucking life”
”I use a moisturiser” (where the fuck did that come from?!)
He looks at me as if I mumbled something in a foreign language and slaps hard me on the back. I wheeze and expel every millilitre of air I have in my lungs. I am his best(est) buddy in the whole world.
Next time I’m taking the stairs.
”I use a moisturiser” (where the fuck did that come from?!)
Nivea, perhaps?
I’m with Alan – that line is certainly the most memorable!
It’s like you have a bizarre “polite” version of Tourette’s syndrome.
“I use a moisturiser.” LOL! That has to be one of your most classic lines yet.
Alan: Hee hee. I guess you are using it?
Thank God we arrived at my floor soon after. Who knows what else would have come out of my mouth?
IITQ: Didn’t know what else to say. So much for being macho
KN: That’ll explain a lot of the things I say.
outofctrl: I’m not to sure about it being classic. It certainly was bizarre… but then so am I.
Sorry to disappoint, I’m very ‘old skool’ when it comes to that sort of stuff. My cleaning agents don’t extend beyond soap, shampoo and toothpaste. Oh, and Botox.
Classic line!! Love it,love it, love it, love it. You are now officially my new comic hero
It is so random, yet not so random!!
”I use a moisturiser” ??!! WTF!! Even I’d have crushed your windpipe for that one!
Actually, tears of laughter are rolling down my cheeks. What a classic!
Hehe. I’ve coerced my boyfriend into using moisturiser, except he prefers to refer to it as ‘man cream’. Doesn’t sound so good, though, in the context of well-nourished hands…
I am beginning to think we were separated at birth, Chitty! I also have the wonderful ability to say something really profoundly unprofound in an attempt to break the silence.
Maybe it is the Virgo thing again. Where do you apply to change your star sign?
Moisturiser???
I have the opposite affliction – I draw a complete blank when there’s an awkward silence and find myself discarding piles of lame-sounding sentences which makes the silence even longer… ultimately, I like to think people believe I’m one of those who is comfortable in silence. haha.
you’re uncomfortable with silence? with lines like that in potentia, you bloody well should be
Alan: If there is choice between botox and moisturiser, I’d choose the moisturiser.
Besides, there that whole other dark side of me you know nothing of.
Sugar: Your new comic hero… I am so not worthy!
Del: Moisturiser does not quite fit into tht macho image thing we got going, does it? When we were younger, m mother would just slap a blob of Ingrams Camphor Cream on our hands and faces… and only in winter.
Ant: “Man cream”… Yikes. That does not sound good.
Katt: My brain goes into overdrive when I am “confronted” with silence. The worst situation I can think of is when you travel long distance with someone who does not talk much. Thanks God for earphones and iPods!
About us being Virgos… you may be onto something.
Terri: Ha ha… I’d be tearing my hair out if I were you. I’ appreciate the lamest comment as long I don’t have to stand there and twiddle my thumbs.
TW: We all have our weaknesses. I am normally very good at getting back at people, especially when they are confrontational, coy or piss me off. I guess I am just so desperate to break the silence, I’ll say anything to achieve that. Rarely happens that I am this silly, but it does.