Social Interaction
I walk out of a place and do the awkward excuse-me-two-step with a woman walking in
I look her in the eyes, smile kindly, and say excuse me. She looks past me, making no effort to be polite.
It is like this too often. And I know why so many people hate. I am angry too. Not understanding why I shouldn’t be worthy of manners.
Seconds before my little enlightenment, I had thought she was beautiful. Elegant.
Now her mask was pulled away, her ugly nature shown to me. And I wonder; how many of her friends never see this reality that she is?
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10 comments:
This starts out well but I'm not crazy abot the last sentence. Definitely rephrase bore.
I hope you keep at it.
Thank you. Feedback good!
Interesting moment if not terribly common. So, next you see her, say hi to my Mom for me, will ya? Thanks!
OK, enough banter. Actually, there's an extra side to this. In all social interactions, there's many levels of exchange. Not the least of which is personal perception. In what you percieve as indifference could just as easily be her highest level of responce possible, given her personal sphere of comfort. She could be a horribly damaged person, inside, who gives all she's capable of with only the most subtle of signals. She might be absolutely positive she flashed an appreciative smile your way but the signal never made it to her face, having been ambushed along the route by some toxic memory. Or, never meaning to be rude, she could be overwhelmed by a personal crisis that day and in the crush of emotions simply failed to notice you on her radar. She might have physically seen you but "damn it, why did my sister have to find that lump on her breast??!" None of which necessarily really puts her in the cold category but at the least enlightens you for offering you a chance for observation.
And here's one from me: All things considered, sometimes even when we write about real life we can be well served by our imagination.
Now, I gotta go pee ....
Scott,
Well put. That was kind of my intention in writing this; to point out not only her fault but that of my own in being so single minded. There is always with us in everything we do that singular point of view that is not only shaped by or own ego, but by our personal experience. It says as much about me as it does about the woman I am writing about. It makes the reader think "well, he didn't think about this, or that" and perhaps they will do that themselves the next time they have a social interaction like this.
That having been said, the account is completely fictional. I did pass a woman on the way out of a store and had that awkward moment of 'I'll go this way and you go that', but she was very pleasant. I thought she was a very elegant looking woman in that upper middle class way, and then I thought "but what do I know about her?" and the answer was absolutely nothing. That fed into the neurotic machine that is my imagination and this bit was born.
Sorry you posted, aren't you!
Thanks man
Tell me more about her "spheres of comfort"-or am I misinterpreting?
MADE IT UP??!!!???? WHAT THE ....!!!!Why, I oughtta ... you ... you... ooohhhhhhhh, I HATES rabbits....!!!!!
And who the hell keeps inviting that magnificent bastard Jack to these shindigs??? Oh, hey, Jack!!!
And by the way, those "spheres of comfort" ... they're really more ovoid in nature. Though, let me tell ya, hee hee, they can assume MANY varied shapes of comfort depending on how I apply myself!!! HHoooooo baby!!!!!!!!!
I'm starting to feel like we hijacked Ben's blog, ahh well, we have to try out our material somewhere.
Keep writin' Ben!
Hijack away lads!
He's just laughing because he's got a secret blog somewhere that he's not telling us about-the sneaky bastard!
I would never do such a thing.... Would I?
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