Excuse me Miss...

Every so often, I enjoy stepping out of my egocentrism and request an external evaluation to examine, or rather compare and contrast, through candid conversation with close compadres, others’ view of me.  Typically, I’ll initiate a discussion by asking a question along the lines of, “Do you think I’m …”?  The other party and I will launch into a drawn-out debate on the merits of their response which, most times, is the converse/inverse/reverse, or any other variation of direct opposite with a –verse ending you can come up with, of my perception.  Some of the rather interesting dialogues have taken place when arrogant or bourgeoisie replaced “…”.  I’ll table that discussion for the moment.

Recently, the topic of shyness came up.  I reluctantly (I use reluctantly as I always hesitate to expose any vulnerability to others) admitted to the person I was conversing^** with that I was, and still am to this day, very shy. 

^**Sidebar: I like how I used converse in the opening and then used it in a completely different form above…don’t know why I stopped to point that out but whatever…oh, I remember…It pisses me off to high hell when people use it in this form – conversate – that is NOT a damned word!!!

Moving on… The person laughed (first off, why would you laugh when someone is opening up to you?) and of course we went back and forth about why I thought I was shy and why they didn’t agree.  My basic argument is this: if you put me in a room filled with strangers, I’ll retreat to a corner until someone initiates a conversation, or if I see an aesthetically appealing young lady who I really want to approach, 9 times out of 10, I will let the opportunity pass me by because I can’t muster enough courage to confidently make a move.  That to me suggests I’m shy.  Cased closed!

Now, I’ll grant there are circumstances where I may appear extremely confident but without exception, if you analyze the situation, those moments always come when I’m in a position of advantage thereby allowing me to merely mask my shyness.  An example you ask?  Sure!  Years ago, I worked in an American Express call center and every few weeks a new training class would start.  I knew the products well and was sometimes asked to answer questions other (new) agents had.  So, a new attractive young lady would start, ask a question, I’d approach, answer the question, say “a little joke…Voila!  Praises due to the most high…”

I was merely doing my job and welcoming the new agents to the team yet certain persons, to this day, point to that situation (or carbon copy examples) and attempt to argue that I’m not shy.  Believe what you will, just know you’re wrong.  That example, in my humble opinion, does not support the argument that I’m not shy; it merely shows that I know how to capitalize on an opportunity when placed in a position of power.  Stop judging me…I was just carpe diem-ing!

Now the scenario below shows you exactly how shy I was.

There was an exquisite young lady I was enamored with during my sophomore year in college.  I wanted to approach her but always clamped up when the time came.  For weeks I tried to devise a game plan for our paths to cross and when I finally came up with a plan, I realized I had no idea whatsoever what I would say.  I considered, “Hi, my name is Jeremy and I’ve noticed you for weeks…”, but then thought, since the Ladies Love Cool J, maybe I should just lick my lips and wink at her from around the way.  I didn’t do either as I later found out she was dating a rather burly brother-man from Birmingham.  But during the process of trying to figure out what to say, I wrote the piece below (consider this a blast from my past).

Feel me… (Excuse me Miss)

I would like to get to know you,

Not referring to know you in the biblical sense,

But to know you more intimately,

Beyond just looking objectively,

At your delicate features externally… 

I yearn to know you internally,

As you know yourself introspectively,

To ignite a love eternally,

To last us now into eternity…

So while I approach respectfully,

Not knowing how to subjectively,

See what you want physically,

Intellectually, emotionally,

And spiritually,

Of me,

I will nervously,

Hope coincidentally,

You really feel me.

You feel me?

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I re-read poems such as this (circa Spring 2003) and chuckle at how much of a hopeless romantic a younger me was.

 “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” – 1 Corinthians 13:11

…Jusqu'à ce que vous lire à nouveau.

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