Gremlin O’Brien

I am a quiet person. I like to observe and listen and learn about other people much more than I like to talk. Writers tend to share these traits, because they take in everything and then find a way to put it to paper.

In a group setting, I pretty much shut down. In high school, I would talk my best friend’s ear off and then as soon as she invited someone else to join us, I’d go silent. This is because if I can get away with not talking, I won’t talk.

I strongly identify with Silent Bob from Jay and Silent Bob.

When I was in the hospital, I went two weeks without calling anyone and inviting them to visit. I didn’t talk to anyone else on the floor, and I got through my interviews with the psychiatrist by either making eye contact or looking away when she got closer or farther from the right answer. One of the nurses finally asked me a direct question and said, “You may not know this, but you haven’t spoken much since you’ve been here. I know it’s hard, Brooke, but you need to answer out loud.” When I spoke, my throat hurt and my voice was hoarse.

When prompted, I give as minimalist an answer as possible.

I get along best with my dog. He doesn’t ask me questions, he doesn’t demand my attention. He sits quietly beside me and lets me pet him – sure he eats poop and then licks my face, but who’s perfect?

The number one thing that stops me from going out and meeting people is that I don’t have the skills to carry on a conversation. When I’m with someone I don’t already know, my mind goes blank. I know I should ask questions, but at some point I have to bring something to the table and I’ve got zip.

Sometimes the noise of people talking loudly and unnecessarily drives me insane. It physically hurts me. This usually happens when I’m already agitated or nervous, usually right around dinner time. Everything sounds louder. Even the faucet running sounds obnoxious. It’s like I’m trying to watch a movie and I can’t hear it because people are making noises – except there’s no movie. I’m just a phonophobic jerk.

The question that I’m really grappling with is, “If I met Conan O’Brien, would I be able to hold his interest for longer than it takes to say my name?”

Maybe I should treat everyone with the importance and respect I reserve for Mr. O’Brien. Then, if I ever do meet him, I’ll have had practice in conversing with someone of his magnitude.

If Conan O’Brien came up to me and said, “Hi, I’m Conan. I have nothing to say,” I wouldn’t mind.

I’d say, “Me too. Let’s be quiet together.”