Extroverted Party Hostess vs. Garrison's Autism: Forever in Search of Common Ground

 

I Didn't Mean to Bore You

VERSE 1

What do I do to earn my glorious payday?

More like what I do to pass the time away

I create magic universes for others to see

Create 3D characters who eventually bleed

Write it all down and let the printer’s ink dry

Which is more than I’ll say about your eyes

Ask more questions, go ahead, I implore you

I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you

VERSE 2

One word answers are all that I’ll give

Code of silence is how I choose to live

Resting Bitch Face so photogenic

Photoshop’s got nothing on this edit

Blunt affect voice, my weapon of choice

Groaning and grunting, my only noise

Don’t take this as a sign I’ll ignore you

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you

BRIDGE

No common ground between the two of us

No longevity of friendship or moment of lust

Nothing to do but milk the grandfather clock

I can tell you’re more excited picking out socks

VERSE 3

Did I do anything fun on Valentine’s Day?

Sat on my ass and watched time tick away

Waiting for exhaustion to pass over my mind

Looking for inspiration anywhere I can find

Did I do anything fun on the fourth of July?

Just lay in my beddy-bye and ask myself why

Mandatory fun? I’d never even force you

I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you

FINAL VERSE

Until next time when we’re strangers again

Remember me not as your favorite friend

Remember me not as the one who rewards you

I’m so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you

We Need to Talk

Sorry to bother you, but we need to talk

Grab your coat and let’s go for a walk

You’re not in trouble, of that I’m sure

I swear my intentions are good and pure

But something you did upset me so

It’ll be a while before you finally know

Let the quiet tension build within you

Run the gamut of drama old and new

Anxiety weighs heavily on your soul

Head is swimming, blood runs cold

You already forgot you’re not in trouble

Let your stomach acids boil and bubble

Remember that thing you did days ago?

Remember what you said with angry flow?

It hurts when you do that, don’t do it again

I actually reconsidered us being best friends

I’ll put it behind me, no question about it

But even you are beginning to doubt it

You’re red in the face, damp in the eyes

The next word from your mouth is a cry

You hold it in, let your eyeballs ache

Let your mind circle, your heart break

We had a good talk, though you never spoke

You desperately wanted this to be a joke

You won’t accept a hug from my arms

You won’t accept my sweetest charms

When we get back home, you stew alone

Glued to your computer or smart phone

Anything to get away from the awkwardness

And the guilt and shame on top of this

Until next time when you do it again

Solitude and blankets, your only friends

Make no mistake, we needed this talk

But when I’m gone, you’ll change the lock

Small Talk

VERSE 1

I don’t care about the weather, not now, not ever

Even in a blizzard, I can think of a topic much better

I don’t give a shit about how your day is going

I could go my whole life without once ever knowing

I don’t give a fuck about where your ass is from

Could you think of a question that isn’t so dumb?

I don’t give a damn about who your family is

I’m not a part of it nor someone you will miss

CHORUS

Fuck small talk! It’s boring!

All these words you’re storing!

I want peace! I want quiet!

I want motherfucking silence!

VERSE 2

I don’t give a rat’s ass about where you work

But telling you to fuck off will label me a jerk

I don’t give a flying fuck about your childhood

Sleep in your fetus jar like every child should

I don’t give a good goddamn about your car

Get your ass in it and drive away really far

I’d rather shoot myself in the fucking skull

Than listen to you give your string another pull

CHORUS

Fuck small talk! It’s boring!

All these words you’re storing!

I want peace! I want quiet!

I want motherfucking silence!

VERSE 3

An introvert’s dream is a Gracie Films shush

That goes unchallenged, not even a little push

An introvert’s paradise is a cat and a novel

Away from those who flap their gums and waddles

I’m not sorry for standing up for my own peace

I’m not sorry for making this conversation cease

Meaningless words fell on the deafest of ears

I don’t care if this makes me awkward and weird

EXTENDED CHORUS

Fuck small talk! It’s boring!

All these words you’re storing!

I want peace! I want quiet!

I want motherfucking silence!

Fuck small talk! It’s annoying!

There’s nothing worth enjoying!

I need rest! I need sleep!

Now beat it, you fucking creep!

Obligations

Running away from your obligations

Won’t put an end to the conversation

The topic’s been brewing for a while

Never mind approaching it with style

You must attack the problem head-on

Even if it starts to feel morally wrong

You don’t have to have the answers

You’re a team player, not a freelancer

Help each other come to a conclusion

Don’t spend so much time in seclusion

Don’t confuse the act of cooling down

With running away and skipping town

You can do this, it’s a phone call away

Don’t put this off for yet another day

Three words, eight letters, say it loud

Before the hatred comes back around

Don’t let a small misunderstanding

Become your downfall, a stiff landing

Pick up the phone before it’s too late

Before the silence has sealed your fate

Hair Masters and Introversion

WWE superstar Daniel Bryan is one lucky dude. He’s got main event status, he’s got a super hot wife, he’s got legions of adoring fans, but the one thing I will always be jealous over is his love of having long hair and a scraggly beard. In other words, he doesn’t have to spend any money at Hair Masters because he lets his hair grow out. I don’t have that kind of tolerance for my own hair whether it’s growing on my head or on my face. When it’s long, it needs to be buzzed to half an inch of hair or else it’ll annoy the shit out of me. I have fast-growing hair, so these appointments at Hair Masters happen once every two or three months.

And then once I get comfortable in that barber’s chair, the verbal diarrhea flies at a million miles an hour. As an introvert, I despise small talk. There’s no point to it, it’s mentally draining, and the extroverts who try to engage me in it don’t actually give two shits about the answers I give them. I suppose I could remedy this problem with my barbers by telling them I’m introverted, but that wouldn’t be socially appropriate, would it? Then again, caring what other people think of me isn’t one of my strong points. If I can make a bunch of giggly Texan women uncomfortable, I can do the same with my barbers. Here are a few of the stupid questions I’ve been asked at Hair Masters along with my awkward responses:

BARBER: What do you do?
ME: Nothing.
BARBER: Nothing?
ME: I’m unemployed.
BARBER: You’re just hanging around?
ME: I guess.

I’ve often contemplated giving the answer of “I work with homeless children in the Democratic Society of Who Gives a Fuck”, but that would probably be more awkward than telling the barber I don’t have a job. Susan suggested to me that I say I’m “In between jobs”, but I’m not since I don’t have an employment history. What am I supposed to do, lie? Anyways, continuing on with the conversations I’ve had…

BARBER: Are you doing anything fun today?
ME: No.
BARBER: Oh….What do you like to do for fun?
ME: Read and write.
BARBER: Oh cool! What do you like to write?
ME: A little bit of everything.

At this point, I wonder when my barber is going to figure out that my life isn’t that exciting. Apparently, they never do, so the bullshit keeps flying.

BARBER: Have you lived here all your life?
ME: No.
BARBER: Where are you from?
ME: Here. I just haven’t lived here all my life.
BARBER: Oh.

Unless you’re planning on coming over to my house and watching the WWE Network with me, you have no business asking me where I live. It’s irrelevant. It’s meaningless. But most of all, it’s bullshit!

BARBER: Are you excited for school?
ME: I don’t go to school.
BARBER: Are you home schooled?
ME: I’m 29 years old.
BARBER: Oh! Are you doing the college thing?
ME: I already graduated.
BARBER: Oh cool! What did you get your degree in?
ME: English.
BARBER: What are you doing with your degree?
ME: I’m trying to be an author.
BARBER: You know what would be cool? If you wrote a book about World War II.
ME: I’m not interested.

If this woman was any nosier than she already is, she would be a police bloodhound. What does she need this information for, anyways?! Is that that starved for WW2 literature that she needs to ask a complete stranger with no interest in history to write it for her?! Speaking of history…

BARBER: What would you recommend for me to read?
ME: What do you like?
BARBER: Historical fiction.
ME: I don’t read historical fiction, so I wouldn’t know.
BARBER: Oh, okay.

Actually, my answer wasn’t entirely true. The last piece of historical fiction I read was “The Sisters Brothers” by Patrick DeWitt. It’s a western, but I don’t think that’s what she had in mind. Besides, it didn’t come to me during the conversation, so I left it out.

BARBER: Do you have any brothers or sisters?
ME: I have an older brother.
BARBER: Did he get his English degree too?
ME: He got a pharmacy degree.
BARBER: Oh cool!
ME: Me and my brother don’t like the same things.
BARBER: Oh.

Jesus, woman, get your nose out of my ass already! I shouldn’t have to sit at my computer desk writing something other than a WW2 novel with a rectal donut on my seat cushion! Ugh! Anyways, after these boring conversations that don’t lead anywhere, I feel so mentally exhausted that I need a nap when I get home. When I pay my bill, I leave a five dollar tip regardless of how nosy the barber was. Hey, I got a good haircut and you can’t argue with a good haircut. Then again, it’s hard to fuck up a buzz cut with half an inch of hair remaining. Any asshole off of the streets can do it. Maybe I should get myself a Wahl clipper and forget the pointless banter altogether.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“It’s a meaningless end to the story. Got no time for my forgotten glory. And now just when I know what I’m after, it just brings me to laughter. Just save up all your nickels and dimes. Let’s see what you’ll find and you’ll know. I guess I’m living day to day. Just hope that you get led astray. Hell yeah. I guess I’m living day to day. Hear what I say. I just died for a piece of the pie, but I’d be glad just to feast on the pie crust.”

-Love Among Freaks singing “Clerks”-