IMDS

IMDS- Inter Monologue Deficiency Syndrome

I was introduced to this concept by my roommate Evan. I think it can be translated in two ways:
1) Not thinking before speaking/ writing and therefore coming across all wrongly
2) Giving too much information

I am guilty of both on a very regular basis. I don't just stick my foot in my mouth, I chew on it. I am always hoping that people will step up to the interaction plate and have an honest discussion about things if my words offend them. Or make them think I am a complete idiot. But that's rare. Of course, I don't follow through with it myself (yet), so there's potential on all fronts.

Anyway, I have found that I am not alone in this mental disorder and it's a great comfort. The best revelations are as a customer. As a previous (and hopefully future) waitress, constant interaction with the public can skew your idea of what is okay to say out loud, either making you very quiet, or into someone who expresses their every fleeting thought. Three great instances in the last few months:

1) My favorite checkout lady at the Safeway on Arapahoe is really loud, speaks slowly and moves your groceries even more slowly. The first time in her line, I was running really late for something and felt, on one hand, severely annoyed as she spoke in great detail about the magazine the man in front of me was purchasing. But, on the other hand, I couldn't help but feel charmed by the way she took time to share her every thought on the matter. In my best experience, I was wearing a Hurley t-shirt. At Safeway, you swipe a card for discounts and your name comes up on the screen and receipt, something the checkout person is supposed to read off with a thank you as you leave. I swiped my card and she said there was a town in Wisconsin with my name- how exciting! What is called? Hurely, Wisconsin. What? I looked down at my mass manufactured shirt and giggled. Oh, I wish my family would make shirts like this for everyone. She smiled and took some time explaining how she saw the situation. I am sure the folks in line behind me were in quite the hurry. Thank you, love.

2) On the phone with a T-Mobile representative. I, as a rule, hate this company and can't wait for my contract to end. They are dishonest and can't deal with automatic payments to save their lives. But this gentleman took time to tell me all about his girlfriend and their daughter and where they were going for New Years, who they were visiting, how many times they had been there, what all he wanted to do, what the new year felt like to him and so on. I don't remember his name, but I got a glimpse into his life and hung up feeling honored.

3) Yesterday at Wild Oats. The checkout lady was kind of squirming behind her counter as the receipt printed. "I wish I could do butt exercises back here." "I'm sorry?" "I wish I could figure out how to exercise my butt while I was standing here." I, um, hope you can figure out how to do that. Thank you- that's something I might say and you make me feel a little more sane.

What does this mean? Perhaps I am not the private person I am trying to think I am. I don't really understand privacy. It's a nice new concept to obsess on and define. There's a lot tied up in ideals of respect and dignity, but also aloofness. Something in it about "the game" humans love- working hard to know or connect with someone being valued over it all coming easily. Fear is in there too, as it is with most things. And there's certainly a dichotomy between who I think I should be and who I might actually be. Lots of thinking to do.