even vanilla ice could do it

We’re all storytellers. Well, perhaps not the mentally deficient or unbalanced, but the great mass of humanity brims with voices who turn ideas and events into entertaining narratives. We each react to our interpretations, whether we laugh, cringe, or smile in response. We story tell, if only to ourselves, in order to satisfactorily internalize an external stimulus kernel. Some, due to natural talent or practice, can take the process farther and produce better results. And even these people sometimes fall into the common situation where it is easier to tell stories to certain types of listeners over other types. Part of storytelling comes from knowing where the listening party comes from and how this party view the world, with congruent mindsets come cohesive narratives. For it is not effective when one must expend more effort to frame the tale than to tell it. Analogous to the student who attempts to write an essay while attempting to understand the underlying concept, the attempt to understand overshadows the ability to relate. Perhaps those most prone to listen, especially those of similar mindset, also do their part to produce stellar renditions. Which is why we all mostly succeed in self-entertainment, for who is more receptive and more similar to the teller than teller him or herself? When alone I fluently express involved stories with complexity, but when around others I often rush to the end for a dizzying range of reasons: insecurity that the other cares not for my tale, a guilt that my tale takes up too much time, the active mind ponders the other person’s stance and reactions more than that of the actual story, disinterest in the receptive party, ennui with the performance of the said anecdote, and other variations of these story-quashing perturbations.