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I’ve been told I have a way with words by a lot of people over the years. But my cousin was the first person to ever say that to me. And he wasn’t talking about my writing. He is one of my biggest fans and supporters when it comes to my writing however. No. He was talking about my…um talking. I can talk. Yep. I learned that at a very young age when at about a year young my first word was “fuck” of course. My teachers all learned that I loved to talk when I was a smart whiz kid and would finish all of my schoolwork before all the other kids and then start talking to my friends disrupting class. Oops. Hey, fuck yo teaching. Chalk it up to being Italian. Italians are talkers. Chalk it up to being from Boston. Bostonians are talkers. Chalk it up to being a storyteller really. I can talk. And talking has been both my gift and my curse over the years. My mouth and the words that come out of it have gotten me into and out of more situations than I could ever write about on T-blawg. But one thing I’ve learned? Is that talking is an art. Oh yes it is. And I have perfected it.
The key to talking is keeping your audience’s attention while getting your point across even if you have no point and making sure they always remember you when they walk away. That is the basic premise every time I open my mouth. Whether at the office or on a date with a pretty lady or on the phone with the cable company or even just hanging out with a pal at the bar watching the Sox game. When T opens his mouth be ready for some awesome, shiny ass, informative, crazy yet entertaining rhetoric to come out of it! You think my stories and opinions on T-blawg are entertaining?! Well you have never truly experienced a T story until you’ve heard me tell one face to face! Because after that story I promise you that you will either want to hug me or punch me, but you’ll never forget me. But don’t get me wrong, I’m also a good listener too. And if your story sucks ass or is going in a boring direction that I don’t like, I’ll help you along with a shit ton of commentary and/or a few offensive jokes to make sure you get to an ending we both can like. Thank me later. That’s how I roll. When I open my mouth I always have something to say so I make sure to know what the hell I’m talking about. That’s where my life comes into play. The life I’ve lived has given me knowledge about so many topics that I have been able to formulate opinions about everything. EVERYTHING I tell you! And even if it’s a topic that I could give less than two flying fucks about, I will be so damn passionate about it that you will actually think that it is something that means the world to me. Because I’ll be loud as shit, swearing and my arms & hands will tell most of the friggin’ story for me. That’s the Italian in me for sure. Blame the stereotype. I embrace it.
The last piece to talking is being honest. It’s been my motto that I won’t lie and I’m sticking to it in this T-pisode. When I’m telling a story or just straight talking to someone, behind all the funny, behind all the crazy, behind all the business, behind all the passion is honesty. I’m SO honest that most people think I’m bullshitting. That’s how honest I am. The best stories are the most honest stories in my opinion. It lets people know exactly the type of person you are while finding out things about themselves that they can relate to. That trigger past memories in them. It makes them want to talk back to you and give you a little bit of them. Who they are. Where they come from. What they want in life. So the next time you see T or that guy at the party telling his 1000th story that night very loudly with arms going crazy, how about you tell a story next and give everybody something to walk away with and talk about? Get to know someone. Make a friend. Leave a mark. Make someone smile. That’s how you talk.
Until next time. Always take it there.
T
T-blawg 