Think about that person you know—and we all know one—so “all about me” they miss the boat entirely. Sometimes we snicker; they can be hilarious to watch as they strut their stuff. But it’s not really that funny; some people are just way overdue in outgrowing the teenage Me Monster.
‘Ever try to have a two-way conversation? You share your experience, and their response is utterly random; you feel like you’re invisible; a non-entity. You anticipate a cognitive response—and indeed, as they speak, you pick up a smattering of your own words—but something’s up with the synapses: you’ve entered The Twilight Zone.
Paradoxically, these self-absorbed doofi can be quite charming. After awhile, though, people realize they’re being minimalized while these sorts name-drop, suck up, and drink up the accolades; they really do believe they’re all that.
The proof is in the pudding. Do you feel used? Are they just humoring you because you may prove useful to them? Are you one of the little people? Do numbers of folks working with this individual end up on the short end of the stick in the Respect Department? What happens if somebody makes an audible “Ahem”? Often the channel quickly changes from The Twilight Zone to Alice in Wonderland: falling down a dark rabbit hole, and there’s no way out.
If this is somebody you work with, the whole gang seems to eventually figure out that different people get to play by different sets of rules. While a few of us are busting our humps, others spend an appalling amount of time doing a whole bunch o’ nothin’. And if somebody files a grievance, they dance their way around it (more like plow through it): anything to make the Me Monster look pretty; they come out spit shined, while everybody else gets spit on.
In my humble opinion, the best way to get along with the Me Monster is to do just that: get along. Don’t follow that cwazey wabbit down that hole.