I am the biggest, hugest extroverted introvert you'll ever encounter. All that I am, all that I have, and every booty that I've plundered, I've managed by knowing how to say the right thing, flash the right smile, butt into the right point of the conversation, draw the right attention. And then I go home worn out and pissed, desperate to be alone for as long as I can manage before it's time to repeat the charade for the next bunch of rubes.
For better or worse, people are naturally drawn to loud, obnoxious extroverts. Girls like a guy who is openly passionate. Employers want a guy who wears a stupid grin, claps 'em on the back and shoots the bull. Hell, talking the talk beats hard work any day. I got my last job entirely because I was able to sit down and talk to my interviewer like we'd been old buddies all our lives, not because I had any experience in the field, or even an educational background that applied.
Which pisses me off to no end. I'd love to be the quiet guy who comes in, does his job and goes home. I'd love to be the guy who doesn't say much, but who communicates his feelings by actions rather than empty words. Doesn't work that way.
Last edited by Gribble; 09-08-10 at 02:41 AM.
God, so atrocious in the Old Testament, so attractive in the New--the Jekyl and Hyde of sacred romance.
-Mark Twain
If people are good only because they fear punishment and hope for reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed.
-Albert Einstein