And Then I Found $5

I don’t know who first came up with the concept of saying “and then I found $5” at the end of a story to make it interesting, but I feel like I need to use that phrase every single time I say anything. If I had an action figure, it would be my catch phrase (oddly appropriate actually considering I’m a little crazy about money).

It seems like every time I tell an extended story about myself or something interesting I heard from another person, at the end of the story I’m met with blank stares. They’re not always funny stories. Sometimes they’re just something quirky I think people might want to know. Yet constantly when I finish talking people just stare at me.

I don’t understand it! I mean yeah, sure, maybe some of my stories suck, but EVERY SINGLE ONE!? What goes wrong in my delivery?? I absolutely know some of the material is FASCINATING, so what am I doing wrong?!

On numerous occasions, I have been told I’m a funny individual. My friends have commented on my rather unique perspective. How does this not come through when I’m talking, and why do the SAME EXACT stories get lauded when I instead write them out??

There has to be something wrong with the way I talk. I’m not sure what it is, but I suspect my voice is to blame. Despite being a Taurus (the star sign of the throat, known for their voices in case you’re not hip on your astrology) I have the voice of an 8 year old on a sugar high. It’s probably hard to take me seriously. I sound like butterscotch and candy necklaces.

I have to say this issue causes me no end of grief, because I love telling stories. This is somewhat of a weird family habit. It initially started with my father at family dinners. He’d turn to somebody and say “tell me a story,” the idea being you’d tell the story of your day. Then he started doing it to random people visiting our house.

I took that habit and expanded on it in college, so it because almost an initiation rite in our group that when somebody brought somebody new over (whether a potential boyfriend, or an old friend from home), I’d turn to them and say “tell us a story!” And I didn’t make it easy. It couldn’t be a real story about their day. Oh no. It had to be a made up story that we found interesting. And to make it even better, we graded people based on their attempts.

Now this kind of random story I actually used to excel at. When I was young, I used to be very involved in church, and often went to overnights or camp where I was in a car/van/bus with a bunch of other bored young girls for an extended period of time. Clearly not a fun situation normally, but I quickly discovered when I started telling stories about the different worlds I had imagined, not only did the other girls listen and BEG me for new stories, the ADULTS even wanted to hear more.

It got to the point that even once we were at our destination, at night when everyone was winding down and trying to get ready for bed, they would come and ask me for more of my stories. This was actually why I first started writing. I had so many people at the church that wanted more of these stories, and I realized that people were going to miss parts when they weren’t around, and I couldn’t remember the exact same details every single time if I retold the story.

This inconsistency confuses me. I don’t understand how I can be (in theory) good at storytelling, but bad at telling stories. This weekend I was meeting a bunch of my brother’s new friends, and I swear to god every time I stared speaking I felt like I should just hold up my “and then I found $5” sign when I finished. Yet everyone seemed to like me well enough. Apparently nobody holds my inability to be interesting against me. I’d hold it against me, but I guess I don’t get a vote.

One of my fervent wishes is to someday understand what I’m doing WRONG when I tell stories now, so I can fix it. It’s really disheartening to get these weird stares every time I talk.