I’m Afraid I’m Not As Interesting As I Once Was

 

As the years pass I become acutely aware of the reaction of people I’m talking with (whether it be professionally or personally). There was a time I used to tell everyone that I should be a professional party guest. I was convinced that I would be the perfect “plus one” at any event. I can hold my own on most topics (sports of course not included), listen when needed and in the witty comeback and double entendre department I was a clear leader. But as time wears on I notice that what was once amusement has turned into something else. As I tell the story of my meeting with and how I offended Army Archerd or retell the story of a cast member going on stage with a bra hanging off the front of her costume for the Before The Parade number in Hello Dolly, I’m more and more aware that while there’s a hint of a smile on their faces, behind their eyes are a dull sort of look. A look that makes me think that they’re making their grocery list or wondering when I’m going to finish or how they can excuse themselves instead of listening to or being interested in what I’m saying. I’m afraid I’m not as interesting as I once was – Don’t Get Me Started!

What most people don’t know is that being “the life of the party” is a pretty lonely existence. As I recently said to a friend of mine, “Gays may laugh with the witty guy but they always go home with the pretty one.” The conversation we were having was the “what if we were single again” conversation. After being with my partner for the past twenty-one years I don’t think that I could ever go out and be “on the market” again. Now, I’m sure if I HAD to that I would but I don’t think I’d be very good at it and I don’t think I’d be very successful at it. That said, on a recent adventure out to a gay event I found myself talking to a couple of guys in their early twenties who had been a couple for six months. They were in love and about the dullest gays you’d ever want to meet. As I stood there trying desperately not to keep drinking until I passed out, the conversation went from one mind dulling topic to another. I threw out my first double entendre – no response. Next a witty comment about what someone was wearing – nothing. Finally a reference to hating the gym – they loved working out and thought it was the greatest thing in the world and didn’t understand why I wouldn’t like it – sip, sip, gulp, gulp, “Oh waiter – another and yes, a double, thanks.”

I understand that what I wrote on my website the first day I created it (that I’m an acquired taste, you know, like Tab Cola) is true but the more I’m around people the more I’m starting to think that I may be no one’s taste. Thank God for the man of my dreams who I can still make laugh and arouse but the more I’m around people the more I find that I feel like the proverbial cheese that stood alone. I think what I say is funny and interesting but I’m thinking that somewhere along the line I’ve become Tigger (“the wonderful thing about Tiggers is I’m the only one”).  

I’ll admit that my references are oft times obscure or from a few decades ago. I admit that I always speak in analogies (maybe it’s from years of teaching kids, trying to get them to visualize what I was saying or perhaps it’s simply that it’s the only way I can understand most things myself). But as time goes on I’m just afraid I’m becoming the guy in the nursing home that wants to tell you a story. You know the one, in the wheelchair, smelling a little funny and going on for twenty minutes telling a story that could have been told in five minutes (Are you listening Mr. Tarantino with that Inglorious Basterds that was waaaay too long?).

Everyone has at least one thing that they’re good at and they know it. My one thing was being a witty conversationalist but as time wears on I find that not only has my audience seemed to have died off but that my act isn’t drawing the crowds it once did. I assure you it isn’t that my references are that old but they also no longer rise like champagne bubbles that tickle the nose and senses either (yet another analogy). I don’t know, maybe it’s a slump like a major league pitcher, or maybe it’s time to get a wheel chair and stop showering. I’m afraid I’m not as interesting as I once was – Don’t Get Me Started!

Read More Scott @ www.somelikeitscott.com

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Comments 4 comments

Stacie Naczelnik profile image

Stacie Naczelnik 7 years ago from Seattle

I don't think it's you, it's them.


somelikeitscott profile image

somelikeitscott 7 years ago from Las Vegas Author

Stacie - Can always count on you...thank you from me AND my ego! Scott


Kerry Karsian 7 years ago

When you're that smelly geez the wheelchair, I'll be strapped to my Rascal still thinking you're a cross between George Clooney and Oscar Wilde. You'll always be the bubble in my Veuve. J'adore! xxoo


fireball34 profile image

fireball34 7 years ago

Hey Scott- I know what you mean lol I love your stories. You might find yourself getting the stage of a Mentor now. Those young guys could have benfit from all of your years with the same partner, so don'tbe afraid to give some of your fatherly/motherly advice Don't get me started!~ lol

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