You can't feign friendliness, W. says. You can't feign interest. In the end, the art of conversation is entirely alien to me, W. says. The art of greeting people.When he did try and teach me, it led to disaster. I bellow. Hello!, I cry in my loudest voice. – 'You scare people'.
In the end, no one wants to talk to me because I don't want to talk to them. They want to escape because I want to escape. I make them edgy because I'm edgy. – 'You want to escape! You want to be out of there!' Can I blame them that they want the same?
W. is always amused in those moments when the power to speak deserts me, and the other person has to guess what I want. It invariably happens when it's most urgent, and I have to be most succinct: a great stuttering and stammering. A great foaming at the mouth. – 'You can't get a word out, can you?', W. invariably says, laughing. 'My God! Gesture! Mime! What is it? More food? Something else to drink?'
Lars Iyer's Blog 