Thanks For Noticing Me

Pam: I had lunch with our friend Robby today. It was good to catch up with him.

Ann: You mean Eeyore? When you asked him how he was doing, did he say very slowly and sadly, “I’m surviving...”?

Pam: Pretty much. He is a “thanks for noticing me” kind of guy, isn’t he?

Ann: He’s a real sweetie. But for some reason that I can’t quite put my finger on, he’s one of the most forgettable people I’ve ever met.

Pam: I know what you mean! I invited him to the Christmas party at my house. You remember…there were only about thirty people there. Well later that week I ran into him and told him how much I missed him at the party. I was mortified when he said, “I was there.”

Ann: You’re kidding! He was there? I don’t remember seeing him!

Pam: Well at least I know it’s not just me. I’m telling you, he’s Mr. Cellophane.


Ann: I think he’s what my mother’s generation called a ‘wallflower’. He just sort of blends in. The funny thing is that I really like him. He’s a great guy.

Pam: I know! I really enjoyed lunch with him today. We had a great conversation and he was really very interesting. But when he dropped me back by my office we ran into a group of mutual friends and, I swear, it was like he has a cloaking devise. He didn’t leave but he wasn’t there anymore either. It’s just weird.

Ann: I guess some people are just better in one-on-one situations. Actually, I prefer someone like Robby to the kind of person who sweeps into a room and just sucks all the air out of it. I feel a bit guilty when I realize I’ve overlooked him, but at least I don’t feel accosted by him.

Pam: Absolutely. My neighborhood ladies’ card group has one of those domineering people. She dresses loud, speaks loud, and takes over every conversation.

Ann: I know the type. You’d never overlook her at a party, huh?

Pam: I actually wait to see where she’s going to sit so that I can put as much distance between us as possible. I know I’m going to have to listen to her all night. But I’d prefer to do it without the blood dripping out of my ears.

Ann: Does she even know she’s like that?

Pam: She must. If there’s a conversation going on and she thinks she’s got something to add, and she always has something to add, she’ll actually not only interrupt, she’ll literally shout over the others to be heard.

Ann: Do you ever worry that you might be a wallflower or a dominator?

Pam: Is that a hint? You trying to tell me something?

Ann: I’m serious. Would you tell me if I was like that?

Pam: I promise….you’re neither. You speak at the appropriate times, in appropriate amounts, in appropriate volumes, and on appropriate subjects.

Ann: Oh great…I’m not a wallflower or a dominator…I’m worse…I’m boring!

Pam: I give up.