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January 12, 2006
In Which I Put My Horrible, Wretched Mood to Good Use
Thanks to everyone who commented and emailed. I appreciate it, I do. Some of you made some incredibly good points. All the points about how people tend to clam up instead of saying something that might sound trite, stupid or just plain wrong? There's a lot of food for thought in that. I've never really had that problem, as I've always been more of an open-mouth-insert-foot-apologize-if-need-be kinda gal. I always just assume I'm going to say something that sounds trite, stupid or just plain wrong, but I do it anyway because sometimes, I accidentally and occasionally say something that's fresh, insightful and dead-on right. I figure the times I flub (many) are worth it on occasions when I get it right (rare). Anyway, my point is I need to be better at trying to understand the reasons why people might not do things the way I try to do them.
Most of the angst pertains to my "real" life. The blog-related ranting was mainly me thinking outloud, as it were. I need to occasionally remind myself how this medium works, and examine my expectations of it.
Now. I had a real Mary Motherfucking Sunshine moment today, and I'm sure you'll all ready to move past my existential bullshit and get back to the usual shit.
Thursday! Oh, how I love my Thursdays! Daycare! Coffeehouse! Writing! I finished the last chapter of the book today! Granted, I still have to finish editing most of the chapters between the first three (also finished) and the last one. But still, having the last chapter in place means I've got my point made. Now I just have to fill in the blanks, which is relatively easy.
The coffeehouse was slam-damn busy all day today. I was sitting near the counter, three tables from the front door. At one o'clock, when I'm often one of the few patrons left from the lunch rush, there was a line that bumped up to my table. Not that I mind. If I wanted to work in quiet solitude, I'd go to the library. I like a little hub-bub in the background while I'm writing.
Anyway, in the midst of this rush, two college-age guys walked in. One of them carried a large, flat piece of artwork, balanced on the flat of his hand like he was holding a pizza box. He yelled, "Pizza's here! Who ordered a pizza?" I smiled at the guy, assuming it was someone from one of the nearby art galleries delivering a painting or print. Probably hamming it up because just about everyone who regularly frequents this coffeehouse hams it up with the staff. Then I turned my attention back to my writing, keeping one ear slightly tuned in.
Turns out, it wasn't someone from a local gallery or representing a local artist. It was one of those fucking scam artist who sells fake prints where the artists get no royalties or control over the finished product. These shysters' story: they were representing a local design house who was clearing! Out! Their! Stock! At! Eighty! Percent! Off! Artists! Like! Thomas! Kincaide!
How do I know this? Because they stood at the front of the coffeehouse, yelling this information at the top of their lungs.
I kept my eyes glued to the page before me, gripping my pen. I'm not going to say anything. I'm not going to look up. I'm just going to tune this shit out and keep writing.
"Hey! How's it going?"
Fuck.
The faux pizza delivery dipshit was standing in front of me. "Lemme tell you about the deals we..."
I locked my eyes with him. "I'm not interested. Thanks," I said through gritted teeth, not looking away.
"Are ya busy? Because I'll just take a minute."
"Yes, I am busy." I motioned to my table, a four-seater completely covered with notebooks, pages of my rough draft, pages of my most recent edit, and the outline of my entire book. "I'm working, and I repeat, I'm not interested in what you're selling."
"You're working? Do you work here? Because we can set you up wi..."
I slammed my pen down and gripped the edge of the table, lest my hand slip and begin slapping the ever-loving fuck out of this idiot. I pulled every bit of anger and frustration I've felt this week and flung it at this weasly little motherfucker: "Listen. I'm busy. I'm working. I am not interested in your shit and I would highly recommend that you get the hell away from me." He stared. "NOW."
I have a sore throat, so sounding ferocious was super-easy! Whee!
He skeedaddled away, off to pester other tables while I sat, staring on the last page of my book, my train of thought completely lost, fighting the urge to get up, walk to the back of the coffeehouse, and go all kinds of violent on that little shit. He was a tiny little thing; I could have done some damage.
As he left, he thanked the barista. She was pleasant, told him his schtick was funny.
"Well, I'm glad someone appreciated it," he said, glaring my way. I didn't bother looking up.
Now, the truly funny part of all this. A few minutes after he left, the girl who was standing in line by my table approached me. "Excuse me," she said, motioning to my left hand. "Can I look at your ring? I noticed it ... um, a minute ago."
Ooookay.
That would be my wedding set, which is really beautiful although not exactly flashy. You want to see it, don't you? Of course you do.
I held out my left hand, ready to jerk it back, lest she be an infiltrater for the underground faux-art black market with ill intentions of snatching the ring off my finger and running away, retaliation for hurting her partner-in-crime's feelings.
But she didn't snatch. Didn't even touch my hand. She bent close and looked. "That's really beautiful," she said when she looked up.
"Thanks," I said. "I'm pretty fond of it."
"And the one who gave it to you?" She smiled.
"Oh, I'm very, very fond of him." I laughed.
Her latte came up, so she said goodbye, took her coffee, and left. My mind clear, I turned back to my work and picked up where I'd left off before being interrupted by the art ass.
I have no idea what brought on that interaction. Maybe she didn't hear my exchange with the art ass. I did make a point of keeping my voice down. Although I'm not sure how she could have missed it. I'm also not sure how she managed to get a look at my ring, since she was standing to my right and had her back to me most of the time. Or maybe she did hear it, could sense the tension and anger radiating from me and took it upon herself to distract me.
It was probably just one of those random things. I approach strangers all the time and ask stupid, weird questions. Like I said, I'm missing that part of my personality that makes me care about looking like an ass. Perhaps she's like that, too. Whatever the reason, that one little, seemingly insignificant bit of connection, made all the difference in the world. It diverted my attention away from something bad and nudged me into focusing on something else: my pretty ring, the sweet fella who gave it to me, and this girl with her latte-to-go who saw fit to approach a stranger - a rather unapproachable stranger - and let it be known that she'd notcied something unique.
And that's why it's good to speak up. By taking that small risk - I could have barked at her the way I barked at the art ass - she made a difference in the path of my day. So take those risks. Just don't try to sell me any fake Thomas Kincaide prints. Or authentic ones, for that matter.
Posted by Robin at January 12, 2006 05:21 PM
Comments
Well I do try to speak up with you as often as I can. I honestly don't feel terribly comfortable telling you to "hang in there" or "get away and take some time for yourself" because it seems pointless. You do take what time you can for yourself and you do hang in there. I tend to try to make your mood lighter - try to say something to make you smile. I hope I don't come off as uncaring or sounding flip when I do that.
I'm afraid I'm coming off sounding defensive and I don't want to. I understand where you're coming from and you have absolutely legitimate points and honestly I'm glad you have the confidence to tell us about it.
I think that girl in the coffee shop must have some amazing intuition.
Posted by: DixiePeach at January 12, 2006 07:47 PM
Dixie, the fact that you thought of me and sought out absinthe chocolates on my behalf nearly six months after I talked about them is plenty good enough for me.
You chime in plenty and I appreciate it so much. When you speak up, it's always thoughtful.I know you're not just blowing sunshine up my skirt, but that you're considering me and whatever's going on. That means the world. It doesn't come off as uncaring or flip at all. It means you've taken the time and energy to learn a little about me and what might make me feel better. And for that, you rock.
Posted by: Poppy at January 12, 2006 07:51 PM
Oh no! One of my old boyfriends used to sell that shit! Out of the back of MY car! He wasn't my boyfriend for much longer after that, though!
Poppy, come help me teach 13 year olds how to knit in February! Just 2 Tuesday afternoons! They'll take your mind off everything normal.
Posted by: allison at January 12, 2006 08:02 PM
Intuition exactly. Gawd I love it when that happens. I've practised jumping in like that and it's starting to pay off, it comes more naturally and I'm not left standing there wondering if I should've kept my mouth shut. Simply because I don't care anymore if people accept it or not? Maybe. But most of all I'm not stuck with that feeling that I should've said or done something and I didn't.
Posted by: Nonna at January 12, 2006 08:27 PM
That was a great story. I am super shy. I'm working on being more out-going and assertive and all that. I wish I didn't have the fear of looking like an ass! Anyway, I feel a little more inspired after reading that!
I hope that things are going better!
Posted by: Johanna Cagan at January 12, 2006 08:49 PM
P.S. That is a lovely ring!
Posted by: Johanna Cagan at January 12, 2006 08:51 PM
Repeat after me, "We don't like art here..really, yeah, Jesus told me art is the work of the devil, please leave now..." Oh and Thomas Kinkade is the devil. If I ever catch you with that shit I will slaugher you, cut off your head and mount it on the wall.
Also, we used to say that the sign says no solicitating where they respond, I'm not siscilian, I'm black. Where the fuck is the spell check on this sucker...I can't spell with S's and C's.
Oh and about saying stupid and smart shit. I figure I say only stupid shit, I then focus and remember it for 10-20 years and feel horrible. Seriously I still feel bad for stuff I said a birthday party in 4th grade. I also always figure if someone is upset its my fault. You could tell me you were mugged by a black man weighing 800 lbs and would that person step up and I'd wonder, does she mean me? Do i look black, am I a man, man that penis is small, seems just like a vagina to me...
I also have never had a fight with a friend because we avoid those real feelings. Do friends fight and make up, nope, not in my world. That is the end of my story. I am a large, black man with a penis that looking like a vagina. Stupid comments right here baby.
Posted by: mindy at January 12, 2006 09:17 PM
Allison, are you sure that won't make her insane? 13 is scary....
Posted by: mindy at January 13, 2006 10:07 AM
It's moments like that that make it all worth it.
I'm a huge believer in karma. I have a game I play with myself every day--I see how many people I can make smile that day. Generally, they should be people I don't know, because it makes it more challenging. (For example, the clerk at 7-11 who sells me smokes.) Once I get them to smile at me on a regular basis (the 7-11 clerk is out, because she now smiles when I walk in. Dual benefits there, strokes my ego when people smile when they see me. Anyway...), they can't count for my daily total anymore. It may sound stupid, but it really takes thought sometimes. I really dig when I can get a total sourpuss to smile. Sometimes, it takes a lot of innovation. Compliments are generally the best, but shared observations work, too. Sometimes I set a goal, like 7-10 people smiling today. Other days, I just count how many.
It may sound silly, but it really helps me keep a positive attitude, and also keeps me centered on the world around me. I have a tendency to be very introspective, and that can sometimes lead to self-centeredness. This really helps me keep looking outside myself, to focus on what other people are feeling, and not get lost in my own thoughts and feelings so much.
Now, if it only helped with my neurotic tendencies...
Posted by: L at January 13, 2006 10:44 AM
Hey, i just posted a response to your post on my De-lurk thread on my blog- I am really sorry, i had your name in my head when writing that post, and then fatigue and old age set in and I missed you off - I'm so sorry and I know that you are one of my poor, mainly bored readers.
Hugs
Zoe
xxx
PS great story and ring - and way to go for the end of the draft of the novel!
Posted by: Zoe at January 13, 2006 12:31 PM
Nah...the kids are totally different after school. It's like from 8 to 3, they're another person. At 3:01, the nice child comes out.
Posted by: allison at January 13, 2006 04:47 PM
Good, thought provoking post.
You know, E is just like you - he knows no strangers and he talks to everyone. I have been embarassed by it at times but most often I am in awe. I have a much more reserved personality and just am not good at starting a conversation with someone I don't know. I have often wished I could be like you guys and just open my mouth every now and then. I think it's something I'm going to try to do more often.
Posted by: Barefoot Cajun at January 13, 2006 05:04 PM
Poppy Mom, I adore you.
L -- I do the same thing -- try to get people to smile. I've come up with all kinds of ways based on my perception of the person. It is so the best feeling when you get a total sourpuss to smile, and then they look forward to you coming in. At the convenience store where I buy my smokes, there is a man who is a major sourpuss -- I almost just want to hand him Prozac or something! But, when he sees me walking in, he either makes a funny face at me or smiles, and he chats with my while I'm checking out. It is those kinds of moments that remind me it's pretty fucking cool to be human! Warms my heart, even!
Posted by: Bluecat at January 13, 2006 09:58 PM
