It’s been a while since I’ve shared some stories about growing up.
Halle writes about talking too much. It’s funny because I think the last time I had dinner with her, we talked too much about just that—how we both talk too much.
I talk so much that people have to remind me to finish eating. Heck, it’s probably why I’m so thin—my mouth is always open, but nothing is coming in.
There is a remote possibility that some of you don’t believe this. Recently, someone told Flackette: “That Terry, he isn’t very chatty is he?” 😀
In case some of you disbelieve…
Near the end of third grade, I went to W—’s house after school, taking a different bus. A wall in the cafeteria of our elementary school would have bus numbers hanging from them, and we’d all wait in line under our respective buses. I passed the time that day talking to our classmate, S—, who took the same bus as W—. Since she was a girl, I had never really talked to her during the previous three years.
By the time we boarded the bus, she said, “I never met someone who talks so much. I have a rabbit muzzle at home. I’m going to bring it to school tomorrow and put it on you!”
The last time I saw S— was when I was in Carnegie Library researching a biology paper for my freshman year in high school. I was waiting for the copy machine on the second floor, when I heard “Terry Chay?” and turned around to see her. I think her last words to me were, “You never stopped talking.”
With details like that, you must believe me now. 😀
How much do I like to talk?
Well, besides conferences, I still open my mouth now and again…
One of my mom’s favorite stories is when I was three years old and adults would asked me what things I liked to do, I’d tell them my favorite hobby was “talking.”
S— was right. I never did stop talking.