I got shit again the other day for an inappropriate reaction. This happens to me quite a bit. Apparently, there are a few standard reactions to whatever situation might occur that are considered appropriate. I have no idea who gets to decide on appropriate. The best I can determine is the judgment is provided by a mixed group of people who are the most easily offended.
Some reactions are easily determined to be inappropriate simply because they’re against the law. You can’t for example, just haul off and punch someone in the back of the head because they butted in front of you in line. Regardless of their lack of manners, the punch constitutes assault. That’s not what I’m talking about though.
Some reactions are not necessarily illegal but are arguably in bad taste. I have to reluctantly admit that I may venture into this arena from time to time. The problem for me is that I struggle with not stating the obvious and I find it amazing that doing so constitutes a social faux pas.
For example.
Say you’re hurrying in the parkade to catch an elevator. Once you arrive you note that the elevator is relatively full. So, you take the time to glance at the occupancy limits and determine that the numbers of people are acceptable but that three of the persons currently on the elevator weigh roughly the same as six normal people. You then decide after some quick elevator math that you’re going to take the next lift and indicate your choice to the occupants while stepping back to allow them to ascend. If one of the plump persons then asks you what your problem is and you can see they’re annoyed, then what do you do? I am pissed immediately that they’re copping an attitude. Someone should have already done the math in their head and made a decision to dissuade anyone else from getting on. Why the fuck is my awareness of your mass now my issue and why was my answer to your question rude? I simply answered, “elevator occupancy math.” My safety is more important than helping you maintain an illusion that you’re not 300 pounds don’t you think?
So, apparently my answer was an inappropriate reaction to their challenge. In fact, after I took the next elevator, one of the obese occupants was waiting for me. The person’s face was bright red. I couldn’t determine if the redness was outrage or just high blood pressure but they felt it was necessary to wait for me to discuss my bad attitude. I didn’t stick around to argue about it. I just walked away at a brisk pace and the argument was over.
But, I’m not talking exclusively about pointing out the obvious when it comes to my reactions to situations. I am routinely looked at with a what the fuck dude look when my wife or daughter or friends or workmates ask me for a reaction to a situation we’re experiencing together.
Another example.
We were in Europe. Western Europe is in my opinion one big fucking city with some parks and the odd farmers field in between the highways. We had stopped for one of those little coffee’s and a really good sandwich when I was asked for my impression of the city we’d just wandered around in for a few hours. Prior to me the rest of my travelling party had commented on the shops and the architecture and to some degree the history. I saw the history and I saw the shops but I was left with an impression or reaction that was apparently a bit fucked up.
I probably should have lied. But I didn’t. I passed along that the city and the masses of people were depressing. I commented that the sheer volume of humanity made me feel insignificant. I related that the bustling humanity that surrounded us made me feel like we were akin to an anthill, and that each of us held roughly the same significance as an ordinary worker ant.
I added that each and every person we’d encountered that day felt that they were important and that their needs and desires were equally important. But those same people were living among buildings that should remind them every day of just how short and tenuous their existence really was. I mean, we were having coffee in a stone building that had been around for four hundred fucking years and had been filled with people just like us who thought their impressions were important as well. And those people were all dead and mostly forgotten.
There was a lot of silence from the table. But everyone had frozen with those little coffee cups halfway to their mouths to give me the what the fuck dude look that I mentioned earlier.
My wife is kind of used to it. She still gives me the look but I think she stopped being surprised a long time ago.
I can’t help it and I don’t fight it either. The thoughts and impressions that pop into my head are beyond my control. My only control is over whether or not to share those thoughts. Sometimes I share and sometimes I don’t. I guess it depends on the company I’m keeping at the moment.