Word of mouth.

Usually I don't have a problem being quiet. Unless the man has told me to zip it. Then I have a big problem. Like today for instance. I paid an exorbitant amount to ride the rails back to my top secret, secret headquarters. I didn't realize I sat down in the SILENT CAR until I unloaded all my crap.

"I can't talk?" I thought. [At this point, I didn't have anyone to talk to.]

I reject the SILENT CAR.

I didn't fork over a small fortune to be shhh'd. The outrage swelled within me. [I still didn't have anyone to talk to but it's the principle here.]

So I sat there in silence, trying to read. I couldn't read. It was too quiet. The redhead next to me had her mouth open as she slept. I could hear her breathe. "Can you keep it down over there, red?" I wanted to elbow her in the ribs.

This reminds me of the time I was hoodwinked into attending a retreat during college. Our professor proposed the following: "Write a 15-page paper. Or go on a two-day retreat." Duh. Obviously I chose the retreat. Our destination was somewhere far, far away in the middle of nowheresville.

On the bus, I recall our professor standing to greet us. My recollection of his words are as follows: "This will be a silent retreat. No talking for two days."

WHA?

Who the hell signed me up for this? No talking for two days? And he meant it. No "pass me the salt," or "is anyone in the bathroom?" Nothing. Mum's the word.

Needless to say, it was torture. And I failed. This girl (who I had never spoken to before and never spoke to afterwards) and I went for a walk and laughed outrageously loud once we were out of earshot.

The moral of this and other stories is this: Shutting up for two hours or two days will not in fact kill your person. Sure, a little part of you may die a very tiny death inside but you will still be 99.5% alive and that's not really as horrific as it may seem. We're probably going to drown in that Hurricane anyway (see previous post).