You Can Take Not Caring What Other People Think Too Far

Most of my life I’ve been plagued by the fear of what other people think of me manifesting as self-consciousness, social anxiety and fear of rejection. While this exaggerated fear can be really annoying, in moderation it turns out not to be an entirely bad thing.

A few weeks ago I started playing open mic nights with my new band The Sketch Artists. At our first gig in the inner west we met a guy who was a regular at the venue. Let’s call him Peter, because that was his name.

Peter seemed friendly and sociable, and soon joined my band-mates and I at our table while we waited to go on and perform. One of the first things that Peter said to us proudly was:

“I don’t care what other people think”.

At first I thought this was a very enlightened point of view and felt a little envious that I haven’t yet reached this pinnacle of spiritual development myself. Judging by his unkempt beard and general scruffy appearance he also seemed to be quite congruent with what he was saying, although I couldn’t help but wonder whether he was cheating somewhat with the beer he was drinking.

True to his word, Peter talked as if he had no concern for what other people were thinking (or feeling), to the point where he seemed quite oblivious of how to really connect with us. He was amusing at first but after a while his incessant banal chatter became vaguely annoying in a way that wasn’t easy to pin down. I started to wonder whether what I first saw an an attitude of enlightenment was really just poor social skills in disguise.

You Can Also Take Worrying What Other People Think Too Far.

Last week I turned up with my band to play again. I was feeling so anxious on the train that when I arrived, I dumped my guitar with my band mates and went straight to the toilet to throw up. Not like food poisoning style vomit but more nervous energy style vomit. You don’t need all the details.

I returned to the table a little worse for wear but determined to perform. At this point Peter came over and started talking to/at us again. I was totally not in the mood but felt guilty (and afraid) of saying so. How would I like being told “I’m sorry, but I’m just not in the mood to talk to you right now”?

That was my truth though.

Perhaps I could have softened the blow and gone with: “I’m sorry Peter but we’re having a private band meeting to discuss top secret intelligence on the music industry”, but I’ve only just thought of it now.

Instead my band mates and I tried to focus on watching the other acts, while I made the occasional sarcastic remark in response to Peter’s ongoing monologue. He just kept talking at us. It was weird because he wasn’t really saying anything particularly obnoxious but it was just irritating. It’s amazing how quickly I can get turned off by someone who is talking at me and not listening or expressing any kind of interest in how I’m doing.

At one point there was a fly buzzing around that was also annoying me. Peter said that he never killed any living thing because all life was sacred. I was a bit tired of all this enlightened bullshit by this stage and responded with: “What about cockroaches? Do you kill cockroaches?”

“No”, he said.

“Mosquitos buzzing in the bedroom at night?”

“No”, Peter would not kill a mosquito buzzing around him in the bedroom at night.

I was about to inquire about whether he’d maintain this position if he knew the mozzie in question was carrying the Ebola virus. I don’t even know if mosquitos carry the Ebola virus but it was just a thought experiment. Or if in fact he’d go so far as to advocate on behalf of viruses themselves as a pseudo life form that deserved sanctuary… when I decided to relent and let the guy be.

I went back to watching the bands and eventually Peter left us alone. I’m not proud of it but I just wasn’t in the mood to work really hard connecting with someone who seemed to take not caring what other people think just a bit too far.