Kindness overload
My coworkers are wonderful people, and that’s killing me.
I come from a country where people are famously open, friendly, and outrageously social. That’s great if you’re wired the same way, but extroverts often steamroll over those who aren’t, simply because they can’t fathom that you might not want what they want. And if they do accept that you’re different, they assume you’re broken, defective, or in need of fixing—and they take it upon themselves to save you. Or worse, they bombard you with relentless “jokes” or offhand comments that stopped being funny years ago. You learn to tune out the noise just to keep the peace, so you don’t have to spend every day fighting for your right to exist as you are.
I’ve spent half my life working with the public, and I’ve got top-tier social skills when the situation calls for it. But my reserves of interest in socializing ran dry years ago, and at this point in my life, I’m fully committed to my project of becoming a ghost. I want to be invisible, to slip through interactions without leaving a trace, to be forgotten as quickly as possible. And where I am now, that’s proving damn near impossible.
From the moment I set foot in this city—before I even started my job—my boss and colleagues have been showering me with attention and offers of help, both professional and personal. Their intentions are clearly good, and this is just how they operate with everyone, including each other. It’d be perfect if it weren’t for the fact that this level of engagement isn’t optional—and it comes with strings attached.
Today, I had lunch with a coworker I’d already turned down twice (extroverts don’t do hints). He was so persistent that shutting him down would’ve meant getting serious enough to risk breaking things better left unbroken. The guy says he really likes me and wants to hang out as much as possible outside of work… naturally, without asking what I think about it. I mean, how could I not be thrilled about how well we get along?
He dragged me to this “amazing” spot—loud, grimy, with subpar service and food that was just okay. To top it off, he brought along a friend who looked like he hadn’t showered in weeks, reeked of sweat, and mumbled through his words because, as he casually mentioned, he’d been drinking before lunch. Not that it mattered much, since everyone around us was shouting like we were in a madhouse, so conversation was a lost cause anyway. The ordeal finally ended when I dodged their offers to hang out again soon, citing a heavy workload, and declined a ride home, saying I’d rather walk. Silence, at last.
My boss keeps trying to rope me into team nights out to “check out some great spots in the city.” Everyone wants to include me in their personal plans, and even people from other departments are inviting me to random events. I’m juggling rejections left and right, trying to keep the peace and preserve the great team vibe, but it’s clear I’ll have to give in sometimes and endure a bit of social servitude to maintain the status quo. I want to keep this job as pleasant as it is, and I also don’t want to be “that guy” who stands out for not fitting in. For now, I’ve got to survive this avalanche of kindness until I can move on to the next phase of my plan.