The Desire For Shared Liking

I've always considered myself a bit of a loner. Lock me in my house with all the lights off, with the shades drawn close, and with a booze-saturated drink in one hand and my I-pod in the other, and I'm as happy as Richard Simmons at a gay porn convention. Life couldn't be sweeter.



And yet, the more I think about some of the things I do, the more I realize that I'm really just a scene junkie. If I'm really such the recluse that I think I am, why am I so obsessed with the collective consciousness of shared liking?



Whenever I do go out, it's never enough for me to simply enjoy whatever it is I'm doing. Whether it's booze, music, gambling, writing, sports- whatever it is, I'm always trying to push the things I enjoy on others. I want the experience to be shared, whether it's with friends or just those who happen to be there. I want bliss and euphoria for everyone.





But why is that? Are the experiences that make us happy really any better if they're shared? Do we really need other people's opinions to validate our own. Apparently for me, the answer is yes.



The music I like, I burn and give to my friends.



When I'm drunk, I want the whole world to be drunk along with me, or it's just not the same.



When I day dream about rolling the dice in Black Hawk and hitting the perfect, endless win streak, the table is always surrounded by my friends.





Whatever it is I enjoy, I want others to enjoy it too.



I think that's why I like concerts so much. The experience, even if you go alone, is always a shared one. Those people surrounding you in front of the stage, they're in complete agreement with you that the band you've come to see rocks. They agree with you that the band is worth x amount of dollars to see, and that standing in line for however many hours before the show starts is well worth it to get good seats.



Similarly, that must be why I like bars so much. If it was just about the booze, I'd stay home with a six pack of beer and watch "The United States of Tera". But drinking alone at home is lame. At a bar, you're surrounded by people who care as little about their liver as you do. People are chugging drinks between shouting at each other over loud music, women are dressed provactively, and the distance between everyone there is bridged by the shared liking of booze and people watching. How could you not love it? Bars are awesome, even if it seems rather sad and pointless to hang out in one.

Everyone is obsessed with shared liking to some degree. You see a movie you like, you read a cool book, you have a fantastic meal- whatever it is, you inevitably tell everyone else about it in hopes that they will check it out and enjoy it as much as you. And, as it often happens, when the people you share this wonderful experience with don't enjoy it as much, you end up feeling a huge let down.

But what's the point? Why isn't the original experience enough? Why are we so obsessed with sharing our enjoyment with others?

I'm not exactly sure why I brought this up, or if there's even a point to this blog, but I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

Did we have a shared liking of it? I sure hope so.

Oh, I almost forgot- I broke my smashburger hymen today. I finally hit up the joint. Damn good shit. Why didn't any of you ever tell me about it?