We’ve all sat around a buffed silver candelabra-lit table during a dinner gatherette positioned next to duller than dull; you might as well not have paid for your blow-dry, as Spitfire-chops exudes Blackwall-Tunnel’s-worth of hot air pre the petit fours emerging – oxygen inhalation irrelevant – without so much as a flicker on interest into your world.
You’ve been introduced to a chum of a pal at a drinks soirée, to be abandoned and cornered with said acquaintance. The next 15 mins resembles lockdown as you’re tossing all the inquisitive frisbees, revealing intimate details about their acrimonious divorce, ingrowing toenail, and fascination with turophobia – and you receive sod all back.
Perhaps you’re chit-chatting on Bubble, and after the initial “how are you?” from your potential mate – that’s the first and last time you see a question mark appear in that little yellow box.
Social ineptitude/narcissist-it’s-all-about-me-me-me and diabetes are much the same. Type 1, a person is born with and learns to manage throughout life. Type 2, one develops through over indulgence, sheer laziness, and not listening. According to diabetes.org.uk, just under five million people in Blighty have this blood sugar disorientating disease – 10% of which have Type 1, the remaining 90% bear Type 2. The percentages are no doubt similar to the egotistical the-solar-system-and-beyond-revolves-around-moi disorder – but the five mill figure can easily be doubled, and some.
If you’re asked how you are, about your day, or an inquiry into you on a social level – one reciprocates. If you’ve just spent 20 mins enlightening a stranger or someone you’ve meet a soufflé-ramekin-ful of occasions about the minutiae of your boss and office nemesis stationery cupboard fumbles – you then lean on your Miss Marple skills, take the time, and delve into their laborious office antics. If you’re conversing on a dating app and your possible boudoir-bud asks something about you – you pay them the same respect and probe into their existence. Ten times table stuff.
You can’t lambada with just yourself, Tiddlywinks isn’t tremendous fun on your own – a conversation is equal pie and mash, Laurel & Hardy, isolation and alcohol – two elements are required.
If you come away from a situation with another human being knowing little or nothing more than you did prior your encounter – the above applies. It’s not all about you.
