Yes. No. Maybe so. These simple answers cover a lot of everyday questions. Nice and simple. If only. Every now and again, I like to respond with a Yeti style answer. Not really falling into any category. Sometimes it comes down to the fact that I might just be too tired to actually form the words properly. Or I might not have the energy to fully engage in the conversation. I have tendencies to just yawn out an inconclusive word or answer. If it is a few words in a row, I will probably just mash them together, giving out a “Mmmyaaawwhhh”. Or something to that effect. Noise, I suppose is the best way to describe it. An acknowledgement that I have been asked a question, and am trying my best to answer. Just not doing a good job of it.
Other times, my Chewbacca statement comes about from the fact that I am not that good at small talk. By that, I also include not being a fan of small talk. Yes, no or maybe, but needing to stick another sentence on to make sense and not sound like a robot. When this occurs, instead of giving a coherent answer or something that could be construed as a question in return, to prolong the small talk, I end up giving out an indecipherable kind of “Ooowwrrrightya”. I have noticed this particularly occurs, unwittingly, when I am going somewhere, on the move with a purpose, and get caught unaware bumping into someone. My bellow of noise leads to the other person being pretty confused at what the hell I was trying to say, leading to a good gap of silence, and a swift end to the small talk. Bit of a plus. Also happens actually if I am asked a question while I am walking out of the room. Or going around a corner… “Ahhhyaaaish”.
Now and again I try to consciously combat this mumbling bumbling along, noise effect. When I have caught myself making this effort, however, the result is not always exactly what I am looking for though. Frequently occurs in the gym, as I walk past the reception. If a girl behind the reception in whatever gym I may be in, asks how are you? good? rar diddy rar, I have noticed a few “Ahhhhyaaaish” coming out lately. Like a wounded walrus. This is usually as I am taking out my earphones to hear what she has asked, but not slowing down or stopping while I do this, too busy to get in and out of the gym as quickly as I can, and spit something out while I turn the corner. “Yes, I am good, thanks for asking”. Too much it seems.
YES. I AM GREAT. ARE YOU GREAT?!! AHHHHH
When I make the effort, instead of giving a Yeti roar, something else occurs. No longer does a mumble bumble noise come out of my mouth. Trying to crisply enunciate every word, it just ends up slightly weird… “Yeah, I am, alright”… then for some reason turn the intensity up a notch… “Are YOU ok?”. Stopping as I do this, facing the person square on, as if to make the point I am intensely psycho. To which she does not have to answer, as her face tells me “I would be a lot better if you just kept on walking from now on”.
Whenever I do use my Chewbacca reply, I myself can never be too sure what I actually want to say as it is. Is it yes? Or a no? Maybe? No clue. I am simply making a noise. Not too sure, but I think I have the source of where it came from, an incident when I was about 18. I found out, in advance, that a girl was going to ask me to her Debs. There was no hope I was going. Numerous reasons why. Never even spoke to her before, wasn’t like I knew her. We would’ve not have been going as friends only. Date all over it. Meet the family, take photos, all that… bob hope. More so than that, she was a nutter. Take my word for it. And, finally… actually, no, I can’t remember what she looked like. Which is a lie. I can. Everyone is superficial when they’re 18. Obviously now, personality is far more important than looks. First thing I look for. Obviously.
One night, as I was leaving a pub, she sprang out of nowhere, and cornered me by the doorway. Grabbing me by the shoulder, and asked… “Will you come to my Debs?” Oh sweet Jesus. After saying no, nicely, she told me “No, you have to go”. I tried again, firmer, no, I can’t, sorry, I don’t even know you. This time she pinned me fully against the door with surprising strength and told me, matter of fact, that I was going, say yes so she can confirm her plans. For some reason, as I shrugged her hands off my shoulders, a gurgle built up in the pit of my stomach and out popped “Hhhmmmwaaahhh”. No clue as to why, but it served its purpose. Avoiding me being harsh. More importantly, it confused her nicely trying to figure out what it meant, she let go of my shoulders and I made my escape. Chewbacca was born.
I Do. Do I?
Once again, there is a reason for all this gibber. I have found out, these indecipherable noises can sometimes have consequences. And, perhaps after all, this word has a meaning. On Friday night, I ended up DJ’ing at a party in a small beach town. Fancy dress for a girl’s birthday party. At about 12 o’clock a guy came up to me in a Star Wars outfit, asking if he could say a few words on the mic to the birthday girl. Work away, off goes the music. As it turns out, he was proposing to the birthday girl. It was obvious from the girl’s face that she was not expecting this, nor were the crowd. Wished her a happy birthday, called her up, down on one knee, took off his Star Wars helmet, and popped the question. In front of a large, hushed crowd, he held the microphone up to the girl, with the words “What’s your answer?”
She started to speak into the microphone but before she had finished, the crowd erupted with applause. Congrats all round. DJ, play us a celebratory song! So, I did, and they were then officially engaged. The thing is, I am fairly certain that I was the only sober one at that party. I am also fairly certain, that she did not say yes, or say no. She merely made a noise… the Chewbacca sound. I know one when I hear one. “Hhhmmmwaaahhh”. Yes, no, hhhhmmmwaaahh or maybe. Apparently it means I do. That is where the nutter messed up with her Debs proposal. She jumped in solo. Lesson learned. Always propose in front of a large crowd. If in doubt, they are the ones who will seal the deal. And, to finish up, can you guess who the girl was…? The exact same one who asked me to her… no, it wasn’t. Pity. Would’ve made this blogaruu waaay better.
Sweet Lord, here is a prime example why I should not leave so long between writing blogaruus. The rambling is ridiculous. Logorrhea. Songs on and good night! Two gems.
In Search Of – Miike Snow
(Not Slow) Doomsday – Elvis Perkins In Dearland