The Monster Under My Bed

I learned last week why I’m no good at making small talk. The realization blew my mind.

Pennie and I were sitting in the sun room looking at our computers when she asked, “Did you get the email from Janet?”

“Yes.”

“Should I answer it or will you?”

“You, please. I have no idea how to respond.”

Pennie smiled her knowing smile and began to type for both of us. Our friend Janet had sent us an email “just to stay in touch.” I enjoyed reading it, was glad she had sent it, but when it came to typing a response I was paralyzed.

“How’s this?” Pennie asked.

I looked at what she had written and was flabbergasted, “Princess, you are the smartest person in the world.”

Pennie smiled, then looked curiously concerned. Closing her computer, she asked, “Why is it so hard for you to make small talk?”

She knows that chitchatting with people is hell for me. Friends who know us casually think of me as quiet and mousy, “the guy who never says anything,” or ferociously unfriendly, “the guy with the giant ego.”

I looked at Pennie’s face and saw she expected an answer.

“Well,” I began slowly, “when a person says something like, “How about this day we’re having!” or asks one of those filler questions like, “How have you been?” every response that pops into my head strikes me as being utterly irrelevant or makes me look completely self absorbed.”

That was the Eureka moment. I think I may have actually gasped a little. With giant eyes I whispered, “It’s from all the years of ad writing!”

People who’ve seen me speak from a platform know I’m the king of forceful statements, persuasive arguments and ribald ripostes. But social situations require low-impact statements, the kind I guard against every day. I’m the bounty hunter who looks for words without impact and makes them disappear. My job is to keep my clients from making irrelevant statements in their advertising and make sure they never seem self-absorbed.

I’m less embarrassed by my awkwardness now. I think of it almost like a war wound, “Gather ‘round, children, and I’ll tell you how I got these scars.” How’s that for putting a spin on it?

Somewhere in this world is the most extraordinary ad writer on earth. I have no idea who he is.

The only thing I can tell you for sure is that he is socially very awkward.

Roy H. Williams