The minutiae of disability markers in mainstream conversations are rarely given time to be disability markers. The film style of the 21st century, for both television and movies, is cut up bits of actual life strategically fangled together. Perhaps one sees scenes go on for more than several seconds, but characters are not allowed to freely be characters for very long. The camera jerks. The background changes.
To linger with these words "did i stutter" is to briefly recognize that dysfluency is not mere garble, because garble implies that something is said. Within the able-bodied capitalist world that creates television shows like The Office, the world whose image is only inverted when buffoonery is blatant, presence requires a smoothness that constantly cycles from one idea to the next, instead of lingering in an emotional moment.
To stutter is to not say anything. This is not determined by the voice, but the border and lines which delineate full space from blankness. To stutter is to linger, not on a word, but on a syllable and further than just the syllable, the emotion underlying it.
My most pleasurable stutters happen when I am full of excitement, so full that the expression of that excitement is a traffic jam on the highway. One letter falls on to the street, then the next one clutters behind it and all we have left is raw silence, as the formless enunciations yield to gasps for air.