Two scientists walk into a bar. The first one says "I'd like some H2O".
The second scientist hesitated for a moment. He knew he was not naturally witty and his research partner often stole the spotlight, but he realized it was his time to shine. In a flash, he remembered the classic joke that would take place in this very similar situation. He pictured it immediately :
"And I'd like some H2O too !" he would say, proud of himself, possibly getting a few genuine laughs from the people around the bar, maybe even for this cute girl he saw in the corner of his eye when he entered.
But he didn't. Instead, he considered the odds of failing, and the consequences. To him, failing meant looking stupid to everyone around, even though, for a very long time, he was looking for someone to tell him how funny he thought he was. What he just wanted was to be validated, maybe even appreciated by some. I mean, a man can dream, right ?
Seemingly lost in his thoughts, the second scientist eventually came to realize that an excruciatingly long time of four seconds had passed since his colleague placed his order. This realization from the second scientist hit him even harder when he saw the part-time bartender, looking at him in the eyes. "What am I even doing ?" he thought to himself.
It was time to act, at last. Time, however, was against him. 5 seconds had passed now. Is it too late to go back and still make this joke ? I mean, it could be still be funny. Oh god, but what if it's not, and he makes even more a fool of himself by wasting everyone's time just to reference that shitty joke he heard once ?
Yes, shitty. That's how he was describing the joke now. The second scientist had now started to make excuses. He knew, but at the same time, didn't want to admit that he was pathetic, so he blamed it on the joke, which was shitty now, apparently. What did this joke even do to him ? Potentially making him look like a moron, that's what.
Six seconds. There was no turning back. The second scientist could not bear the pressure any longer. But somehow, he did, as his order was still not coming up. It was like he forgot how to breathe. By the second, he was feeling more and more uncomfortable. A distracted eye was now looking at the girl in the bar. She looked disgusted at him, because he was stupid and unfunny. Well, actually, she was just looking over the bar with a neutral expression and without thinking about anything in particular, but what the second scientist thought she was thinking made more sense, considering how much of a pathetic guy he is.
Eventually, the concern reached his colleague, who directed a "Hmm ?" towards the second scientist, in an attempt to free him from the despair that was eating him alive. At that moment, he snapped, but only partially. With all the little amount of mental strength he has, he tried to rely on his human instincts to find a solution to his issue.
"Uuhhh" he managed to say, still facing the bartender. YES ! Now that is a step forward. Feeling proud of the way he managed to reset his awkward silence timer, the second scientist was now at least 10% at peace, and resumed thinking about his order.
But this time, even if he managed to take the joke out of his head, a feeling of crippling anxiety came to knock at his brain's door for his hourly visit. In the second that followed, he analysed all the shit he just went through. The scenario he made in his head. The fact that no one likes him because he's a disgusting loser. The fact that everyone was waiting for him to answer, but he couldn't. What the hell was even wrong with him, honestly ?
Focus. Focus on your order. End this for good, right now. That's what he told himself. So he focused. But he realized that he did not know what drink he even wanted in the first place. After a short session of telling himself how much he sucked for the 142nd time of the day, he took the initiative and gave himself the objective of always thinking of his order before entering a bar. Little did he know, he would realize 2 days later that he did not enforce this new rule at all, which would trigger his 89th session of telling himself how much he sucked for that day.
In a halo of holy light, literal savior sent by the gods, a person stepped up and gave him a helping hand. But that person was not a saint, he was simply the part-time bartender, who was thinking that he doesn't get paid enough to deal with weird customers like the second scientist.
"Do you want some water too, sir ?"
The problem was cut down to a much simple one : answering the question. It was pretty much the same thing as the initial situation, but he did feel relieved. He also realized that the bartender knew immediately what H2O means. But then again, everyone knows what H2O means, right ? No. NO. STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS GOD DAMN JOKE. It was not the time for indecision.
He saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Like a merciful blessing, he finally knew how to answer. He felt it. The words were making their way out of his lungs, modulated by his vocal chords. At long last, he was to put an end to his misery. He did not even really know what he was about to say, but did he care ? No, he did not. In a couple of milliseconds, he was about to be free. There was no way he could feel the crippling depression that has been devouring him for years ever again. And then, with a slight hint of pride, he said :
"Me too, thanks."
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