never a second chance for a first impression

Hey.

It was agony deciding what first to say to you, who will come to know me so well in due time. What possible utterance could summarize all that is to follow this first outstretched hand. This rehearsed and affably arranged expression. This attempt to earn your trust, affection, respect, et cetera.

And so, as most inevitably do, I started small. I was short and sweet, casual and aloof. I allowed the very novelty of my arrival to communicate my intrigue for me. A presence such as mine need not be announced, but accepted, understood, and embraced without argument, says my greeting. With a word I've put you at ease and made you feel like I'm just one of the guys, here the whole time, a necessary cog in the intricacy of your social clockwork. You, my new friends, are impressed.

Is it working?

A few words, then, by way of introduction. I've grabbed your attention. I'm commanding the room and all eyes are on me. It's time for the deep breath, the shuffle of papers, the check of the mic, the sip of water to soothe a parched throat.

Ahem.

"Your first impression, gentlemen, is entirely correct." I begin.

Flash a smile, glance at notes, sip again from glass of water conveniently within arm's reach.

"It is a pleasure, gentlemen, and an honor, to be in such esteemed company. Your work, and I believe I speak for any whose opinion on such things is of any consequence, is very interesting, very fascinating, very impressive indeed! Truly, my friends, kind gentlemen, good sirs, loyal brethren, yours is company worth keeping!"

Resounding applause, self-congratulatory and strong (as self-congratulatory applause tends to be). You shake hands all around, you pat on backs, you prove what great company you are. Amid the roaring cheers I raise my voice to call for order and attempt to resume my speech.

"Gentlemen as I stated not mere moments ago, you and your accomplishments are truly to be admired. As one so clearly admirable as myself, I feel there is no other place for me than within your ranks, shoulder to shoulder, brothers-in-arms, friends til the end!"

A heartfelt look, a downcast glance and a furrowed brow. The crowd reacts and grumbles its agreement. Over the rising din I make a final statement.

"Together, friends, we will show the others just how impressive we are."

I surrender my soapbox, step down from the pulpit, exit stage left. The applause is deafening. Bouquets are thrown.

There. That went well. It worked. I won. I'm in. I am, as I have heard said by others, the "man".

Retreating home following the festivities. The adrenaline rush of manipulation drains away and there is nothing to take its place. Nature abhors a vacuum. My stomach grumbles, ulcer's acting up, tummy hurts. I pop a Tums.

At home the couch is broken, collapsing, moth-eaten, second-hand. The books have no discernible order on the shelves. I have a monkey made out of a coconut wearing a Nike headband, filled with marijuana. I can't get rid of all the ants.

Hello. It's nice to meet you.