Tales Of An Antisocial In A Social World

I have a Facebook, a Twitter, a Myspace (which is now more or less defunct), a podcast, a smartphone, and a job in retail.

Hello, my name is Ryan, and I’m an antisocial.

Technology is ever increasing, improving and expanding, making it easier for interactions between people to be as impersonal as possible. I’d always rather text than call,  as any communication that can be done with a screen and a keyboard is preferable.

I can’t seem to escape retail jobs, but I’m hoping that a new opportunity on the horizon will have me seeing dollar signs when customers walk into the store, as opposed to my current situation where I see them as huge, crying babies in soiled diapers.

In a related note, I may be in the minority here, but I absolutely despise being greeted when I walk into a store as a customer. Customers at large seem to prefer, or even demand that, but I for one leave the store happier if that doesn’t happen. No, I don’t have any questions, you can’t help me find anything, and I want you to go away.

I go out to eat frequently, but oddly enough can’t stand the interactions that I must endure due to my general lack of desire to eat at home and save money. I hate it when the waiter or waitress (yep, still not calling them servers), stops by every 45 seconds to ask the same questions, or nearly bores me to death with their reading of the daily specials, which are usually the strangest, most unappetizing-sounding things on the menu. I prefer for you to swiftly and silently refill my drinks and otherwise stay away until it’s time for the bill. If you can manage that, I’ll leave you a generous tip. And one last thing- I just ate a salad, bread, glass after glass of soda, some sort of appetizer, a huge burger and fries. . .do I look like I need coffee and dessert?

I will always choose a self-checkout register if there is one available. If I can make it in and out of a store with no human interaction, I’m a happy camper. I think any guy can agree that self-checkouts are especially useful when purchasing condoms, as regardless of your age, this venture still makes you inexplicably bashful and not having to make awkward eye contact with a cashier is a small victory.

Speaking of awkward encounters, nobody in their right mind enjoys extended family gatherings. I derive no joy from seeing wacky aunts who I barely remember, young cousins who got knocked up, or litters of ankle-biters with stupid modern names. If I have to tolerate one of these charades, I prefer to stay in the shade, by the beer cooler. However, no amount of barbequed food or booze really ever takes the edge off.

As much as I don’t enjoy speaking to anyone on the phone, when I need to get something done, nothing infuriates me more than automated menus that lead you in circles. Hearing that robotic voice say “sorry, I didn’t get that”, when I very clearly and audibly said the word “yes”, sends my blood pressure soaring to new and uncharted heights.

It’s an uphill battle. Every day.