December 6, 2011

DIY Big Bang Theory Moment

Over the weekend, I went to the Hot Shops winter open house with one of my best friends, and his sister.  What are the Hot Shops, you ask?  They’re a collection of studios set up in the old downtown warehouse district where artists can rent space.  One of the things that was on the agenda was to see the dancers, if possible.  We’d all three walked by a sign or two that had the performance information on it, and thought we knew when and where it was.  As the time approached, my friend looks at his watch and said “Did we miss the performance?  I thought it was at 3:00, on the second floor”.  


Now, let me break this down for you.
 To meet the two of us independently, you wouldn’t know we had ever been in the same room together, much less friends.  To see him would be to use words like quiet and unassuming.  His energy meter reads at a steady 4.  To see me is to think vibrant color, kinetic energy, mouthy, and dialed to 11 because that’s where the knob snapped off.  However, we’re both brainy in our own way, and share the NTJ aspects of our personalities.  He’s an INTJ, I’m an ENTJ.  I like to say we think with the same paint brush, just the strokes are different.  I’m more a people person, a charismatic grain of sand in an oyster personality.  He’s more a science and numbers; a processes and procedures kind of thinker.  Both are dynamic and effective, but radically different from our own comfort zones to entirely “click” without dissecting how the other ticks.  (I think that’s part of the charm of our friendship, if you ask me.)


Cliffs notes aside, let’s get back to the conversation.  We’re standing in the stairwell, debating on when and were the dance performance was going to be.  He said it was at 3:00, on the second floor, I swore it was 2:00 on the third floor.  Round and round we went.  He teased me about how he’s better at details and numbers.  INTJ this, details persons that.  All of which was seemingly backed up by the sign on the door, which in deed read, 3:00, on the second floor.  As I’m sitting there, trying to decide if salt or ketchup would taste better on the crow I’m about to eat, his sister pipes up.  “Oh, will both of you put it away.  The performance is SUNDAY!”.  

*cough*

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