Shy Persons Anonymous

Shy Persons Anonymous

“Welcome! Welcome to Shy Persons Anonymous. Come on in and sit down. There’s more room at the front here. There’s always plenty of room at the front. I think that’s everyone we’re expecting... Good! Now, if you’re looking for Alcoholics Anonymous, they’re meeting in the bar across the street... Well, don’t all laugh at once.”

(Fat chance of that.)

“Now, don’t get too comfortable, because in a minute I’m going to send all you shysters out of the room again...”

(Was that supposed to be another joke? I should never have signed up for this program.)

“... so that you can come back in dressed in your brand-new personalities. Remember: just because you feel pathologically shy does not mean that you need to act that way. Am I right, or am I right?”

(Neither!)

“Oh, and because this program is strictly anonymous, please collect your numbered ID tags as you come back in: pink tags for the women, blue tags for the men, and purple tags for the undecided... Just kidding! Out you go then, and come back in as new people!”

(This was all a terrible mistake. I knew it! Shall I just keep on walking? Oh, god -- I’m going to be ‘M1’ now, am I? I wonder what sort of person he’ll turn out to be.)

“Welcome! Welcome to Confident Persons Anonymous. There... You feel better already, don’t you? See how easy this is?”

(If he tells me that today is the first day of the rest of my life, I’m out of here.)

“Now, remember: today is the first day of the rest of your life, and what’s more, it’s never too late to live happily ever after.”

(That’s it! I’m gone.)

“Leaving us so soon, M1? In the wrong class, maybe? Or maybe it was something I said?”

“Umm...”

“Yes?”

(Mumble mumble mumble.)

“Would you please speak up so that we can all hear you?”

“I said: ‘I’m sorry; I don’t do well in groups, or... (mumble mumble).’”

“Last bit again, please; so we can all hear?”

“I said: ‘...OR WITH PLATITUDES!’ I’m sorry, but this was all a big mistake.”

“That’s very good! You must have taken this course before.”

(Useless as that, is it?)

“What was that?”

“Nothing...”

“Well then, why don’t you sit back down, give it a try, and if you still want to quit after the first session, I’ll refund half the course fee. The same goes for all of you. How’s that? Fair enough?”

(Shit! How can I respond to something like that? If I walk out now, it’s like spitting in his face... the stupid jerk! Oh! That girl just smiled at me! First eye contact I’ve made with a woman in months! She’s quite cute, too. What’s her number? F something -- duh! Not F1; she looks likes she eats men for breakfast. F2, it looks like. Bet she’s attached. Still, what’ve I got to lose? This can’t get any worse.)

“Right, then; let’s get started. By the time you finish this program, you will walk out of here as the confident, self-assured human beings that I know you all want to become. You’ll ask for raises when you deserve them, dates when you want them -- both without fearing rejection -- and you’ll feel comfortable walking into a room full of complete strangers at a cocktail party.”

(And joining in their meaningless conversations? Sounds like utter hell! Out of the frying pan into the proverb. What the fuck am I doing here, anyway? When was I last invited to a cocktail party? Does anyone even give cocktail parties these days? None of my friends, that’s for sure... What friends? Oh, shit... What’s this jerk saying now?)

“Is everyone okay with that?”

(Shit! Okay with what?)

“Yes, F2? You have a question?”

“Umm.... Would you please go over that last bit again?”

(Oh, bless you, F2! I think I’m in love...)

“Of course I will. I said I’m going to assign each of you a partner, because I want you to do your homework in pairs. Okay?”

(Homework? What homework?)

“Some of you are probably saying to yourselves: ‘Homework? What homework?’ I know you’re all adults and I expect it’s been a while since you were in full-time education, but here’s the thing...”

(Platitudes and trendy phrases? Ha! F2 rolled her eyes too! Homework partner? Snowball’s chance.)

“Surveys have shown that the three things that shy people dread the most are, in order: public speaking, getting to know someone of whatever sex it is that attracts you, and revealing intimate personal details to complete strangers. Well, Shy Persons Anonymous will kill those three birds with one stone!”

(Suicide?)

“Your homework assignment will be to tell your partner how you lost your virginity... okay? And then, the next time we meet, you will each tell the class about the experience of sharing this intimate information with your partner. So, everyone will get to hear both versions. How does that sound?”

(Christ Almighty! Are you kidding me? That sounds like sheer, unmitigated hell! Root canal surgery without anesthetic. And there was I thinking this couldn’t get any worse. And what about those of us who... er... haven’t?)

“If, by any remote chance, there’s anyone here who hasn’t yet had the pleasure, so to speak, then your story can, of course, be complete fiction. Who’s to know? The only rules are that it must be tasteful, realistic -- no aliens! -- and less than 2000 words. And remember: your partner will know if you embroider. Now, let’s get you paired off: M1 with F1...”

(NO!)

“No...”

(No?)

“Too predictable. Let me see: M1 with... F2, okay?”

(Okay!)

***

“I thought you were really brave in there earlier this evening, M1.”

“How so?”

“When you nearly walked out, right at the start?”

“The walking out bit was going to be easy; it’s what I do best. Deciding to stay was the hard part. The real me just kept on walking.”

“So, who am I talking to?”

“Beats me. Some anonymous confident person, I don’t think! Either that, or one of the Al Anon members, maybe. Where are they all, anyway? Weren’t they supposed to be meeting here?”

“Maybe the program was really successful and they all graduated already.”

“Or not, and this bar wasn’t big enough to hold them all. Anyway, you know what changed my mind about leaving?”

“No, what?”

“It was when you smiled at me.”

“I knew just how you were feeling, and I wanted to help.”

“Well, you did; and thank you. And when you asked that jerk -- you know, our ‘Fearless Leader’? -- to repeat what he’d just said, I could have kissed you! I was thinking about something else, and I’d completely missed the partnering bit.”

“I saw the look of panic cross your face...”

“You did that for me?”

“Well, I wasn’t completely clear about it myself; I was having trouble concentrating.”

(Oh, she is majorly cute! Just look at that dimple when she smiles. Wish she’d do it more often.)

“Do you suppose we can exchange our real names, or would that get us thrown out of the program?”

“We can always hope so! I’m Peter, by the way.”

“Hello Peter By-the-Way. I’m... I’m a train wreck waiting to happen.”

“Well TW, what do your friends call you?”

“What friends?”

“Really? Well, this friend -- evidently your first, though I find that hard to believe -- is going to call you TW. Okay?”

“Thank you, Peter.”

(Wow! She didn’t call me Pete! That’s a first. Maybe she understands about shyness.) “Cheers, TW. How’s your wine?”

“I’ve tasted worse. Oh, shit! How ungrateful is that? I’m so sorry. ’S what comes of trying to sound sophisticated.”

“That bad, eh? I’m sorry.” (Hmm... Didn’t expect that. Dimples and honesty? What a combination! And a taste for wine, too?) “Look, TW. I know you’re probably busy or whatever, but... I’ve got some better stuff than this at home, and I live right around the corner.” (I can’t believe I just said that! To a girl? I bet she suddenly remembers a subsequent engagement. Probably needs to wash her hair.)

“Maybe we could work on our presentations.”

“Presentations?”

“For the course? How we... you know.”

(Shit! I’d forgotten the fucking presentations... Hey, that’s quite funny! Do I dare say it to her? No, I don’t think so. Oh, she’s lovely when she blushes like that!) “Er... Yes, okay. Why not?” (Could I sound any less enthusiastic if I tried? Jeez! What is my problem?)

“Why not?”

***

“Thanks for this wine, Peter. You’re right: this is much better. And your apartment is beautiful! Who decorated it for you?”

“Thank you; I did it myself.”

“Really?”

(Oh, god! She probably thinks I’m gay!) “My mother is an artist and I think I learned my color sense from her.”

“Yes, I see...”

(Idiot! When you’re already in a hole, stop digging!) “I’m not gay or anything, TW... if that’s what you’re thinking.” (Did I really just blurt that out? Yup, that was a blurt all right. Shit! This is not going well.)

“No, of course not; hadn’t crossed my mind. Well, actually it had, but I’m glad you’re not.”

(Wow, she is honest! And she’s glad? That sounds promising, but maybe I should just let it pass; take it slowly.) “You know TW, I have no clue how I’m ever going to do our homework assignment. I’ve never been any good at making up stories.” (Oh, shit! Now what have I done? Just told her that I’m the last twenty-three-year-old male virgin on the planet, that’s what!)

“You’d need to, would you?”

“Need to what?”

“To... er... to make it up?”

“Oh... well... yes, I would, in fact.” (God, how embarrassing! Talk about revealing intimate personal details to complete strangers!) “I’ve always been shy, you know.”

“Me too. I’m just no good at talking to guys, you know? Never know what to say. And without talking...”

“Me neither... with girls, I mean.” (What? Is she a virgin too?) “It’s like brain-freeze sets in as soon as I meet a pretty girl.” (No! Now she’ll think I don’t think she’s pretty.) “Either that, or I say something completely crass... like I just did.” (Good save?)

“I bet we’re the only two in the class, Peter. So, all the others will just know our accounts are complete fiction, and how embarrassing is that? How can you make something sound realistic if you’ve never...?”

“Had the pleasure’, to quote our Fearless Leader?” (So, she is a virgin! Whaddya know?) “Beats me, TW. Well, there is one way. Umm... I don’t suppose...” (Do I dare?)

“What?”

“I don’t suppose we could... you know... like, join forces? Do you think that would be allowed?” (Bet she turns me down.)

“Collaborate, you mean? Write a joint story? That’s brilliant! Then I could get the girl bits right and you could make the guy credible. They’d never guess.”

“All right! How should we begin?”

***

One week later...

“Welcome back! Let’s see how you all got on with your homework. M1, why don’t you lead off? Come up here in front of the class and read us your story.”

“Certainly; be happy to. You all should know that my new girlfriend and I... we created this story together. We’re calling it Shy Persons Anonymous.”

THE END