Mr Un-nebulous: Sensitive Guy

My Beef This Week

I really can’t stand super-sensitive people. They can’t much stand me either; I’m like the insensitive bull in the emotional China shop.

Apparently, I somehow offended a man that I had a phone interview with. Now I’ve been replaying the interview over and over in my head and the only things that I can come up with as possible offenses are the following:

1. I asked him a question about his company’s product and he answered it. Then 2 sentences later, he contradicted that answer. I pointed this out and asked the question again, giving him the two possible answers. This time he answered the opposite way he had before. Embarrassing, I guess, since he should have known his product.

2. I used the word nebulous. He then proceeded to use the same word about 5 times. Then he used the word un-nebulous. I snickered since this is obviously not a REAL word. Embarrassing, I guess, since he not only sounded like a parrot, but also because he should be familiar with basic English.

So needless to say, I didn’t get asked in for a face-to-face interview. I thought about trying to patch things up and trying to talk my way into the interview because the job really interested me. But I can’t work for someone so sensitive, and this guy would have been my direct supervisor. Had I made these mistakes when I was interviewing someone, I would have laughed out loud at myself. This guy internalized, sulked, and then stamped my file “denied.”

Plus, it’s not my fault he’s an idiot. Snickering was not the politest thing to do, but that was reflexive. No matter how that played out, un-nebulous would have elicited some kind of giggle from me, so I can’t kick myself for that.

Now that I think about it, being a stupid super-sensitive guy must make life excruciatingly painful. People must constantly make fun of you, and you just go home and cry because you lack the ability to laugh at yourself.

Maybe I’m just being insensitive. But you know what? I lack the sensitivity (and the ability) to care.

The older I get, the more it becomes apparent that life is too short to dwell on that kind of bullshit. There’re only a handful of people whose opinions I care about enough for me to “dwell” on. I could give 2 shits what a stranger thinks about me. Mr. Un-nebulous apparently hasn’t learned that lesson yet, and probably never will.

So Mr. Un-nebulous, I hope you don’t cry yourself to sleep tonight because of me. Me? I’m going to rent myself a Steven Seagal flick and try to infuse myself with some sensitivity.