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Everybody Has A Story

Salty Booger

Royal Crown Cola (RC)
My job places me in a position where I am a captive audience. People tend to tell me their story, and I listen. Perhaps I should be a bartender. At least I would get tips. How good of a listener are you? Or do you have an interesting story to tell?

pexels-suzy-hazelwood-1447273.jpg
Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels
 

MatthewA

Active Member
Yesterday, outside of my door way across the pasture with grass about halfway to the hip, past the barn, and the house in which my mother lives in. A huge smacking on the ground of beat metal. A motorcycle had wrecked by hitting into the driveway on a curve, and the man on the motorcycle had ended up going along with it. The man ended up passing away, how sad.
 

Salty Booger

Royal Crown Cola (RC)
Yesterday, outside of my door way across the pasture with grass about halfway to the hip, past the barn, and the house in which my mother lives in. A huge smacking on the ground of beat metal. A motorcycle had wrecked by hitting into the driveway on a curve, and the man on the motorcycle had ended up going along with it. The man ended up passing away, how sad.
I appreciate short stories. ;)
 

beenherebeforeagain

Rogue Animist
Premium Member
The fact that everyone has a story is why I became a journalist. I wanted to write stories, but I didn't find the stories about me to be all that interesting. But everyone has at least one good story that can be told...some have more...
 

stvdv

Veteran Member
No desire to share?
Sometimes I share. A few days ago I did. Was a 1 on 1 sharing, felt good, but later on I wondered if she had appreciated it. I just discovered she really appreciated what I shared

Those are the best

Nowadays with the internet I think that people might be kind of saturated with Data information. So, I see it as a new challenge to tune in into the situation:

"To share or not to share"
 

A Vestigial Mote

Well-Known Member
One New Year's eve my wife and I were having a get together at our home with various friends. This happened to be a "no kids" event, so we had setup for our children to be over at their grandparents' for the evening. Well, the kids saw us preparing foods and treats and were a bit miffed as I got them in the car to head over to the grandparents' for the night. To break the tension, I decided to play a game with them. I told them I was going to come up with an advertisement for a doll-version of each of them. So I went through my daughter's - noting various aspects of her personality, little "isms" she had as if they were features of the doll, etc. Then I did my son, stating that his doll had a pull-string, and listed various inside-joke phrases that the doll would say when you pulled the string.

So then I told them it was their turn to advertise for the doll that represented me, and to say anything at all, no holds barred. My daughter was all about it - and immediately piped up with: "The mommy and daddy dolls - they're super lame! They'll kick you out of your house and have a party!" Needless to say, we all laughed a bit uncontrollably, and I like to think it all had the desired effect of giving them a bit of an outlet and smoothing some tension. And I realized that even at 6 years old, my daughter had a wit quicker than many adults.
 

exchemist

Veteran Member
My job places me in a position where I am a captive audience. People tend to tell me their story, and I listen. Perhaps I should be a bartender. At least I would get tips. How good of a listener are you? Or do you have an interesting story to tell?

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Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels
I have a number of boring ones.

People generally are not interested much in other people's stories - unless they are trying to get into their knickers of course.
 

Vinayaka

devotee
Premium Member
Yup. We're diverse. in another thread a friend asked 'What's normal?"

Yes, everyone has a story.

"Real cousin narrated a Hallowe’en story of the demise of Mr. Syne by some past mystery, and ever since, that house had been haunted, presumably by Mr. Syne’s ghost. There was innuendo of murder but no confirmation. No Real spoke much about it. I supposed they were either frightened or courteous. There were rural community rules that one should not speak of ghosts, and some descendants of Syne’s family were still around, waiting to be insulted or reminded of sadder days. Everyone dodged trouble of a disruptive kind. The Imaginary brothers didn’t recognize such rules.

At the weekly organizational meeting I yapped about it. The brothers’ ears perked up and a flowing tongue wagged, “Better than watching baseball, digging holes to China or playing with gasoline. Better than this pretend hogwash around here. We should have a look-see wander-gander about it.” "


What varies is mostly in the ability to tell such stories. That's why smart people hire ghost-writers to write their autobiographies.
 

PureX

Veteran Member
As a recovering alcoholic, I have sat in a great many AA meetings over the years listening to people tell their stories of what it was like being an alcoholic, what happened to them as a result, and what it's like now that they are sober. And I have told my own story, similarly, many times, too. And I was and still am amazed by the stories I've heard, and the extraordinary things that my fellow humans have experienced in their lives. So much so tat it eventually convinced me that every single one of us has an amazing story to tell, whether we are aware of it being amazing, or not. It may not seem amazing to us, but to others, it would most certainly be.

I marvel at the billions of human beings that have come and gone before me, and how each of them have had such an extraordinary experience being here. Some extraordinarily horrific, some extraordinarily wondrous, some extraordinarily strange, and so on. But all unique and amazing in their own ways.
 

ChristineM

"Be strong", I whispered to my coffee.
Premium Member
Lots of stories, most of them unprintable on a public forum. But I'll try this one. Living in the UK road rage was quite a regular thing to see. Moving to France i didn't see any tempers while driving. How nice and polite drivers are there. Then pulling up to a roundabout in Sarlat behind another car. Another car, a convertible with the roof down swerved around me, and swung in front of the car in front of me who was just pulling away. Cutting her up causing her to break hard. She honked the horn.

The convertible driver waved his middle finger in salute and tore off with a screech of tyres.

A couple of hundred metres up the road the traffic had come to a standstill. The woman in front got out of her car walked up to the convertible driver. Tapped his shoulder, as he turned she landed a beautiful slap across his face Calmly walked back to her car, got in and drove around the shocked and smarting idiot.

I couldn't set off for laughing.
 
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