Certain kinds of small talk have always freaked me out a bit. This isn't fair, as I will talk to anyone about almost anything without the slightest invitation if I feel inclined to do so. I have compassion for the occasional person who looks at me in slight terror as I ramble on about whatever comes into my head - but most of the time people seem to like the connection.
The small talk I usually find awkward are the 'standard questions' that seem to be designed to find out if you're worth speaking to. When I was much younger and had completed a year of art and design, I was at a party where almost everyone was an 'impressive' artist in some respect (hey kids, we're GOING SOMEWHERE!). If they weren't, then they dressed the part and had the right drugs (which was any).
This very 'cool' looking girl was standing near me and so I started talking to her. This was the kind of cool where you act like you've recently been defrosted and so speaking is really hard work and your face doesn't move much. I'm more in the 'Mr Bean' camp when it comes to facial expressions, so I was never mistaken for that dead on the slab kind of cool (and found it hard to comprehend).
I was interested in talking about art and music, but she cut through it and said
"So what do you DO?"
I was a bit stunned and mumbled something about not being sure what to do next (I was 21 and had so many interests and a dark depression at the time). There was no room to say that I made jewelry, did cartoons, painted, sang, wrote poetry ... because that wasn't what interested her. She informed me that SHE was a graphic designer and I said something like "oh that's great" and she replied "yeah" and without having smiled once, turned and walked away.
What a terrifying girl! I felt like shit but fortunately ended up talking to someone amazing who gave me craploads of 'rescue remedy'.
Variations of that experience have happened many times over the years, but as time goes on the interest or approval of the nasty bitch brigade matter very little and it's unlikely a person in their 40's would be that blatant in their snobbery.
I once met the boyfriend of a friend (this was more than 15 years ago) who did something in TV. He was one of those small, handsome, arrogant and insecure men who really didn't want to bother speaking to me. I did my best and asked him a bit about why he liked his job and he was giving me minimal answers without even looking at my face.
I wasn't sure how to handle this, and the next moment I was saying ...
"To be honest, I don't really know what you do. Are you the person who makes the coffee for everyone?" and delivered a winning smile.
He blinked a couple of times and then started to laugh. He realised he was acting like a douche and apologised - and then explained that he had a terrible headache and hadn't really wanted to come out. He probably was still a douche, but a douche with a headache, but he was at least somewhat defrosted for the rest of the evening.
Disliking snobby small talk is understandable. No one wants to be asked if their job makes them worth knowing or not (unless that is how you hold on to your identity).
The one that freaked my out most recently was not that bad at all. I was in an Op Shop (Charity Shop) and looking at smelly old shoes I had no intention of buying. The lady behind the counter (well kept, longish blonde bob, glasses) suddenly said something about a shed. I didn't know if she was talking to me and looked behind me like someone in a silent movie who exaggerates every move.
She repeated it
"Isn't it terrible about the shed!"
"I'm sorry - are you talking to me?"
"Yes, isn't it terrible about the shed burning down?"
"I don't know anything about it sorry ..."
"Well, the shed at the back of the shops here, it burned down last night!"
"Oh, um, yes that's .... terrible"
"Yes! They don't know how it happened, it might have been electrical!"
"Oh, yes, it might have been ..."
How awful, I didn't care about the fucking shed. I didn't know what to say. What was the correct response to an old shed burning down?
If it was burning down in that moment and I could have gone and watched it, I would have been totally into it. But it had already happened.
I struggled for the right thing to say and felt a weird sort of panic.
"They don't think there's any foul play do they?"
I sounded like someone in a small village tv drama working out who killed the vicar.
"Well we don't know ...but isn't it TERRIBLE?"
Well no. I didn't think it was terrible. Terrible is the fact that we have such a high suicide rate in NZ. Terrible is homeless people. Terrible is families who can't afford their heating.
"Ah, well the main thing is that no one was hurt"
I offered in the same small time villager role I seem to have taken on.
"Well yes, but oh, it was really terrible ..."
After saying how terrible it was she seemed to have been soothed and I slipped away easily, calling out 'goodbye'.
As for other kinds of small talk 'nice weather' and 'lovely coat', yeah, bring it (in moderation only).
Deep? |
The small talk I usually find awkward are the 'standard questions' that seem to be designed to find out if you're worth speaking to. When I was much younger and had completed a year of art and design, I was at a party where almost everyone was an 'impressive' artist in some respect (hey kids, we're GOING SOMEWHERE!). If they weren't, then they dressed the part and had the right drugs (which was any).
This very 'cool' looking girl was standing near me and so I started talking to her. This was the kind of cool where you act like you've recently been defrosted and so speaking is really hard work and your face doesn't move much. I'm more in the 'Mr Bean' camp when it comes to facial expressions, so I was never mistaken for that dead on the slab kind of cool (and found it hard to comprehend).
I was interested in talking about art and music, but she cut through it and said
"So what do you DO?"
I was a bit stunned and mumbled something about not being sure what to do next (I was 21 and had so many interests and a dark depression at the time). There was no room to say that I made jewelry, did cartoons, painted, sang, wrote poetry ... because that wasn't what interested her. She informed me that SHE was a graphic designer and I said something like "oh that's great" and she replied "yeah" and without having smiled once, turned and walked away.
What a terrifying girl! I felt like shit but fortunately ended up talking to someone amazing who gave me craploads of 'rescue remedy'.
Variations of that experience have happened many times over the years, but as time goes on the interest or approval of the nasty bitch brigade matter very little and it's unlikely a person in their 40's would be that blatant in their snobbery.
I once met the boyfriend of a friend (this was more than 15 years ago) who did something in TV. He was one of those small, handsome, arrogant and insecure men who really didn't want to bother speaking to me. I did my best and asked him a bit about why he liked his job and he was giving me minimal answers without even looking at my face.
I wasn't sure how to handle this, and the next moment I was saying ...
"To be honest, I don't really know what you do. Are you the person who makes the coffee for everyone?" and delivered a winning smile.
He blinked a couple of times and then started to laugh. He realised he was acting like a douche and apologised - and then explained that he had a terrible headache and hadn't really wanted to come out. He probably was still a douche, but a douche with a headache, but he was at least somewhat defrosted for the rest of the evening.
Disliking snobby small talk is understandable. No one wants to be asked if their job makes them worth knowing or not (unless that is how you hold on to your identity).
The one that freaked my out most recently was not that bad at all. I was in an Op Shop (Charity Shop) and looking at smelly old shoes I had no intention of buying. The lady behind the counter (well kept, longish blonde bob, glasses) suddenly said something about a shed. I didn't know if she was talking to me and looked behind me like someone in a silent movie who exaggerates every move.
She repeated it
"Isn't it terrible about the shed!"
"I'm sorry - are you talking to me?"
"Yes, isn't it terrible about the shed burning down?"
"I don't know anything about it sorry ..."
"Well, the shed at the back of the shops here, it burned down last night!"
"Oh, um, yes that's .... terrible"
"Yes! They don't know how it happened, it might have been electrical!"
"Oh, yes, it might have been ..."
How awful, I didn't care about the fucking shed. I didn't know what to say. What was the correct response to an old shed burning down?
If it was burning down in that moment and I could have gone and watched it, I would have been totally into it. But it had already happened.
I struggled for the right thing to say and felt a weird sort of panic.
"They don't think there's any foul play do they?"
I sounded like someone in a small village tv drama working out who killed the vicar.
"Well we don't know ...but isn't it TERRIBLE?"
Well no. I didn't think it was terrible. Terrible is the fact that we have such a high suicide rate in NZ. Terrible is homeless people. Terrible is families who can't afford their heating.
"Ah, well the main thing is that no one was hurt"
I offered in the same small time villager role I seem to have taken on.
"Well yes, but oh, it was really terrible ..."
After saying how terrible it was she seemed to have been soothed and I slipped away easily, calling out 'goodbye'.
As for other kinds of small talk 'nice weather' and 'lovely coat', yeah, bring it (in moderation only).
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