I'm a notoriously soft talker. I figure that, if I can hear myself, I'm speaking loudly enough for everyone else to hear me. I know that doesn't make sense. But, since when has making sense been important to me? My problem with soft talking is so bad that I even go so far as to get mad when people ask me to speak up so that they can understand what I'm saying. If they want to hear me, they should pay closer attention, I tell myself. Silly, I know. But, that's me.
Today, I got stuck in a conversation with a loud talker. I was in my office, meeting with a guy I'd never met before. He came in, introduced himself, sat down, and our conversation started. Immediately, I knew I was in trouble. This guy was practically shouting. I started to wonder what the people sitting around me would think. Thankfully, we had to get another person on the phone so I was able to close my door.
While closing the door may have helped those on the outside, it just made things worse for me. In my office, when you close the door, you get no air circulation. So, I was stuck. I was trapped for an hour with a guy just 3 feet away from me, talking as loudly as Jim Cramer on "Mad Money." And, I was starting to sweat.
As I sat there listening, I tried to send all sorts of non-verbal cues to my guest. I pushed my chair away from my desk. I leaned back as far as the chair would go, cupping my hands behind my head. I swiveled to the side. It was no use. Whenever I moved away from him, he just leaned closer towards me.
I looked to see if this guy had a wedding ring on his finger. He did. "Good Lord," I thought. "Is he this loud at home?" If he is, I don't know how his wife stands it.
The conversation continued for the full hour. Every once in a while, I forced myself to carry on the conversation, just so I could give my own ears a break. But, it was only temporary. Soon enough, he'd pick right back up again. It got so loud that I started to feel like I'd done something wrong and he was yelling at me. Finally, it ended. We shook hands and said our good-bye's. Peace at last.
I'm typing this in the silence of our family room. The dogs are outside. Kim's upstairs. Jay's doing day one homework. The only thing I can hear is the soft hum of the clothes dryer off in the distance. It sounds beautiful.
This is where the magic happens.
