My name is Lucy Benedict* and I am a people addict. I was
going to say ‘I’m a people person’, but that would be a lie. I’m not. I’m shy,
utterly lacking in confidence, and a compete introvert. Being around other
people too long has the same effect as kryptonite on Superman. I lose all my
powers, get drained of energy, and my hair gets upset. I’m not a people person.
I like people, generally, as individuals, but I find real life interaction a
bit much, and can only handle it in small doses. I prefer to observe.
‘You should have been an actress!’ My mum’s been saying that
to me for years. I always thought she meant it in the sense of ‘Oh bloody hell,
you melodramatic creature. Stop making a scene, calm down, and cease this quenchless
thirst for attention.’ It was only recently I found out that what she really
meant is that I have a gift for mimicry, and for spotting things that perhaps
other people don’t always.
It was brought home a few months ago, when Alistair and I
were discussing a mutual friend. Let’s call him ‘Roy’, seeing as I don’t know
anyone called Roy. I made a crap joke, Alistair said ‘That’s the kind of joke
that Roy would make!’ and I made a kind of high-pitched ‘Hnugh?’ sound.
Alistair stared at me, worriedly, wordlessly. ‘What? That’s what Roy does,
whenever he makes a joke. Hnugh?? To draw attention to the fact that he’s just
made a joke.’ Alistair looked dubious. ‘What?! He does! How can you not have
noticed? Hnugh? Every time.’ Alistair turned away and muttered ‘If you say so’
in tones designed to tell me ‘You are talking utter bollocks, and no, Roy does
not hnugh?? after he’s made a joke.’
And then of course, two days later, we saw Roy, Roy made a
crap joke, and as sure as I cannot type ‘teacher’ without first typing
‘tecaher’… ‘HNUGH????’ Alistair caught my eye, and I got to pull my very best
‘See, I bloody told you, how have you not noticed this before, oh my god,
you’ve known Roy all this time, and yet you never saw it. Until I, me, ME,
pointed it out, and you didn’t believe me, o ye of little faith’ face. It’s
quite a complicated expression, but I have a big face, so can fit it in quite
easily.
Another way I’ve found of pissing Alistair off is to copy
his hand gestures. Every time he describes an action, his hands and/or head get
in on the fun too. So when he told me how he was going to strap down some tools
in the boot of the car to stop them ‘bobbling
around’ his head performed a little
involuntary wobble, a bit like Stevie Wonder, to illustrate the way in which
things can ‘bobble around’. Or if he says he’s going to the garage, his left
hand, seemingly without his knowledge, will point to the car park. To be a
massive annoying tit, I innocently ask ‘Where are you going, darling?’ and he
shoots me a look of longsuffering pain, and says ‘To the garage’, points,
sighs, and contemplates walking out of the house and never returning.
But it’s not just physical stuff I notice. Body language is
practically my mother tongue, and I can read someone’s thoughts without ever
exchanging a word with them, but what I do best is people, in the round. This
is probably why I love things like twitter, facebook, blogs. Because it’s not
just what people do, it’s what they try to tell the world about themselves.
Earlier this year, I had a thought. You can tell a lot about people from their
favourite mug. And #MugTheory was born. People tweeted me a photo of their
favourite mug, and I tried to provide a concentrated personality analysis. It
was fascinating. Genuinely
fascinating. To try and analyse people based on a single photo of a hot
beverage receptacle. Some people didn’t have a favourite mug (I’m one of them),
so they proved harder to read. Other people turned out to have two favourites –
one for sentimental reasons, one for actual drinking. And one person (YOU KNOW
WHO YOU ARE) refused to submit to my highly scientific process (I WILL BREAK
YOU DOWN ONE DAY), and even referred to #MugTheory as ‘nonsense’ (BE VERY
AFRAID. I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE).
It was fun, and I met a lot of lovely, shiny new people on
twitter, to replace the older, more worn out ones (I don’t mean you by that. I
do mean you, though), but I wasn’t altogether serious about it. What I prefer
to do is read the hidden conversations that are happening, the things that
aren’t said, or the things that may seem to be a throwaway line, but serve a
far deeper purpose than may first appear to be the case. Here’s an example of a
conversation I have made up:
Tweeter A: @TweeterB Hey, you around for that thing we
mentioned doing on Saturday?
TweeterB: @TweeterA Yes, I think I’m still free. Say about
eleven?
TweeterA: @TweeterB Great! Really looking forward to it!
Last time was brilliant! Text me when you’re leaving :-)
TweeterB: Ok, will do.
TweeterA: @TweeterB Thanks xx
Right, from the outside, it seems like nothing much, yes?
Just two people making plans. Ok, here’s the thing. Why didn’t TweeterA send
TweeterB a direct message instead? Because they wanted to make sure someone
else saw. Why did TweeterA say ‘that thing we mentioned’? Because they wanted
someone else to know that they and TweeterB had had previous conversations
about it. Why did TweeterA make a direct reference to ‘last time’? Because they
wanted someone else to know they had a history with TweeterB. Why did TweeterA
mention texting? Because they wanted someone else to know that they exchange
texts with TweeterB. This also reinforces the question ‘Why didn’t TweeterA
just text TweeterB in the first place, instead of having a public
conversation?’ Because TweeterA wanted someone else to see the exchange, and
text messages wouldn’t have achieved that. And the ‘xx’ at the end? That’s the
final twist of the knife in the heart of the third party not directly involved
in the conversation. And I can guarantee that TweeterB would have been
blissfully unaware of any of the heaving, seething mass of undercurrent running
through the tweets, probably thinking ‘That’s a bit odd. Why didn’t TweeterA
just text? Oh, well’ shrugs, gets on with their day, with no further thought
about it. Whereas for me, it’s as plain as the nose on TweeterA’s face.
People give themselves away far more often than they would like to think, and if you're the type of person I am, you learn to read the signs without really being aware of it. It feels instinctive, when really it's more an accumulation of years of hanging back, watching, and then seeing how things go on to unfold. So I've learnt to trust my 'instincts', and I'm not often wrong. It’s a shame, but it
does peel back a rather sad truth. As people, most of us aren’t
really all that great.
We like to think of ourselves as being kind, altruistic,
caring. Actually, most people’s motives are pretty base, and our behaviour is
usually caused by the nastier side of ourselves we try to keep hidden. We
behave the way we do through fear, jealousy, lashing out, attacking, retaliating.
The irony is that the people who motivate our best behaviour, our loved ones,
see us openly at our worst, when we’re hurt, upset, angry. The people we care
about the least see us at our best, keeping up appearances, not letting our
demons peep through. But no one wants to admit that, least of all to ourselves.
So we perpetuate the myth that we are being kind, generous, helpful. We’re not. We’re seeking to impress with a shinier, nicer, better cover version
But I’m fluent in the language of people. And even if no one
else can understand you, I can. I do.
*My name is not Lucy Benedict
7 comments:
You found the irony there (your last comment).
I don't drink from mugs.. So lock me up now. :)
Great piece AS USUAL. :)
Thanks Nic! And to be honest, I prefer to drink from highly specific glasses instead ;-)
And there is a certain irony in this, I confess...
As a fellow watcher of people, I very much enjoyed this post. And now I can't stop trying to work out which is my favourite mug and what it means about me...
Thank you! I love it, but it wasn't until this year that I realised that not everyone does it. I'd just assumed it was something that everyone did, as a matter of course. And it's interesting, the people who don't have a favourite mug. But trust in #MugTheory to reveal your true personality ;-)
Lucy. Unnerving! Can you REALLY understand me? Incidentally, I have/had 3 favourite mugs. Bereft since one broke.
Huge cotton wool hug, and love.
Elderly One
Am entertained by the idea of 'specific' glasses. I have a set of vintage Orangina glasses from France (obvs) that nobody is allowed to even look at let alone use.
I am also very shy and prefer to watch other people than to actually engage myself. It can be very entertaining. My wife however, is the complete opposite and being around her and her family has taught me shyness is not an option. Thanks to her, I have become more open and outgoing. I still get shy around new people, though.
Sean @ Excel Translations
Post a Comment