We all have certain things - triggers, if you will - that set our teeth on edge and make us want to curl into a fetal position. For some people, it’s fingernails on a chalkboard. For others, it’s rubbing balloons. For still others, it’s the sound of styrofoam.
Of course, it’s not always sounds. My wife has a hilarious (in my opinion, at least) aversion to cotton. She can’t open a bottle of vitamins unless she brings it to me to remove the cotton packing. Yep, that’s me - Cotton Remover the Brave. Something about the feel of it between her fingers just makes her shudder. In fact, if she’s reading this, she’s probably shuddering right now, just thinking about it.
I’m always trying to be fair, so I will here post my personal heebie-jeebie inducer: marbles. If you want to make me leave the room in a hurry, just rub two marbles together. If you want to take me out of commission altogether for a while, just force me to do the actual rubbing as well. Eeeeewwwww.
That was actually difficult to write without stopping to grind my teeth down to the nubs. I’m not sure why certain things do that to us. I read a theory once that these sounds/feelings mimic something that triggers evolutionary survival instincts. We dislike these things intensely, so we avoid them, which enables us to survive. I’m still trying to work out the details of how marble-rubbing could possibly be deadly to my simian forebears, but it sounds as good to me as any other suggestion I’ve heard.
Sounds and feelings aside, what is it about certain people’s voices that can drive you loopy? You know, those people that send you screaming from the room before you have to listen to them say ‘good morning’? John might be a perfectly nice, normal guy from Accounting, but his voice makes you want to kill puppies.
I have a theory. Perhaps this is an evolutionary signal as well. Perhaps Mother Nature is telling you that there’s a 96.4% chance that John in Accounting is considering hanging you from the rafters and using your insides to make an origami snow monkey.
Makes me wonder if my voice drives anybody up the wall. Considering my new theory, perhaps it should.
Book tally: 268 pages, 77971 words
May 8th, 2007 at 2:21 pm
I know what you mean. For me, it’s that kind of a “snuffle” thing Montana Senator Baucus does when he’s talking. I know that would have driven most of my ancestors nuts too, and they never even heard of him.
Almost 6,000 words in 5 days. It’s coming along!
May 8th, 2007 at 4:16 pm
Exactly. I think the vocal equivalent of nervous tics are the absolute worst - forget the sound of the actual voice.
Yes, I think I’m on the home stretch here, though now that I’ve said that it’ll come to a screeching halt. Watch.
May 8th, 2007 at 4:54 pm
Faith Hill. I normally am beyond polite in regards to other people’s belongings and music choices. However, I react in a violent manner when Faith Hill comes on the radio- at one point I began screaming obscenities and jabbing at my cousin’s car radio because she didn’t change it fast enough.
There was a co-worker who did nearly the same thing to me. No matter how good of a mood I was in, the first time I heard his voice (from across the building) it put me in such a bad mood that I’d rarely come out of the funk before the next day. I actually cheered when he quit (and he was actually a really nice guy!). I’ve also threatened my husband (who was his boss and had hired him a total of 3 times) if he ever re-hires the guy.
And I’m one of the nicest people that I know!
May 9th, 2007 at 6:00 am
Faith Hill, huh? I’ve never had an artist’s voice get to me that badly, though I can’t listen to Joe Cocker without grabbing the throat drops.
There have been co-workers, though. I’m with you, there. And you can’t escape these people, which makes it worse.