Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Socially awkward penguin:



or: a very long-winded discussion by a hyper-analytical person about the discomfort (and the joys) of interacting with strangers.

At an event on the weekend -- a lovely event, so bear that in mind -- I found myself seated at a table of strangers. This can either be the best thing in the world or the WORST THING EVAR GO AWAYYYY. Though in the innermost recesses of my self I'm kind of shy, it's probably more fear of intruding in another's life than actually shyness. So it doesn't entirely stop me from striking up conversations, and once those initial icebreaker conversation-starters are over, I can talk to pretty much anyone. I like people, so it's fun.

Being stuck on a table with strangers makes it even easier. You don't have to walk across the room maintaining eye contact the whole time. No, for some reason, your hosts or the event planner have decided you and they and they and they would make an interesting social mix for a few hours, so half the work is already done. Someone's next to you, they're not going anywhere, so why not get to know each other?

It sounds logical, and sometimes this goes off without a hitch. But other times the experience is so unbearably, uncomfortably awkward that I feel myself thinking CANNOT COMPUTE. HOW DO HUMAN? It's obvious to you, then, without me explaining it, that last weekend's event was going in precisely that direction.

I was kind of on the end of a long table. Seated near me was one young couple, but my seatmate on the other side never showed up. Hmm. An empty seat already precludes one half of the conversation options. Past the vast gulf of the empty seat was another couple; after a brief hello, they got chatting to the people on the opposite end of the table, and turned to face them or each other. So I did my best with the people I was seated near, starting with something in common, our mutual friends. They smiled politely, and answered my questions, but they did not offer anything in return, nor did they ask me anything. After a respectable amount of time had passed, I sat back to allow for the customary polite pause (also to gather my arsenal of other possible conversation starters). They filled it by speaking to one another a little in low tones, but mostly just looking around. When the gap got to the point of awkwardness, I started again, but again came up against a brick wall. The ball never bounced back in my direction and I sat there like an obnoxious puppy just waiting for someone to pick it up and throw it.*

Since the people I was so unsuccessfully trying to relate to seemed pleasant enough, my usual tactic kicked in. Obviously it must be my fault.

I don't know if this is a human trait, a feminine trait, or one uniquely embarrassingly mine alone, but I tend to blame myself for social catastrophes. Maybe I'm being annoying. Maybe I'm not interesting enough. Perhaps I smell like the garlic bread that was offered for hors d'oeuvres. I'm weird. My face is communicating unfriendliness. I've accidentally said the magical word that released a cone of silence over the person I'm talking to! And so on.

If you have ever been in this dark pit of social despair, you will know the feeling. In your desire to communicate warmth and friendliness, you sit there with what you hope is a gentle yet winning smile, meant to suggest that you are up for conversation but will definitely not glom on to anyone like a barnacle. Rather, you will preserve a healthy, polite distance. What's more, you are hoping to catch the friendly glance of anyone as an entree into the conversation, but you don't want to stare outright because that would be weird.

All up, that is a lot to communicate with a facial expression that's barely there. And of course, after about ten minutes of this, you have a visage-related existential crisis. You forget how to smile at all and start to wonder if you are grinning like a homicidal psychopath, not only scaring anyone away from you currently but also scarring them with an image that will later haunt their dreams. 

Yeah. So that was my position after about half an hour of failed mingling. I began to think despairingly of how many more hours of this I would have to endure, and contemplated shrinking myself down, Antman-style, and making an escape.

The only alternative was to bridge the gaping void of the empty seat to my right and reach across in decidedly uncool fashion to leap into the smallest possible chance of a segue with the other couple. If one of them so much as blinked in my direction, I was going to do it. My chance came, and it was awkward -- and then suddenly we were talking about all sorts of things, and she and I had heaps in common, and her husband was a dear, and we nattered delightfully about subjects both light and heavy, and at the end of the night she gave me her contact details and a hug.

WHY.

The difference couldn't have been more defined, but it's only today that I worked it out fully in a way that makes sense. I wasn't being a socially awkward penguin, and neither were they, particularly. Rather, they just couldn't be bothered. And -- here is where the lightbulb binged into blinding, obvious light -- that has nothing to do with me. Yes, if I was rich or glamorous or a celebrity, maybe they would have been bothered, but I don't have to feel bad about their inability to try. The difference between the dead conversation and the living interaction was that in the latter, both parties were willing.

Why am I saying all of this in an excessively-long blog post? Perhaps just as a reminder to myself and to you that all any of us can do is our best. Communicate friendliness and warmth without being creepy. If it doesn't go anywhere, it's not necessarily your fault. And who knows what backstory the other person is dragging along with them? Don't feel bad if the social engagement comes to an awkward, screeching halt. It takes two to... convo.

*so many cliched (and mixed) metaphors! Woo. Go me!

16 comments:

  1. Ergh, I hate these moments! And it is definitely not a problem with you, it's them... I wonder why people can be so rude and selfish. [Sorry, this hits close to home and I feel your pain!] And I am so glad that your night had a happy ending!! xx

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  2. Haha I so understand. This is me talking to a new person last night:
    "hi, I'm Harriet how are you?"
    "hi I'm good."
    "ok........I'm going to the toilet. Bye!"
    I don't know how I ever managed as a journalist when my whole job was to ask people questions!

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  3. Haha I so understand. This is me talking to a new person last night:
    "hi, I'm Harriet how are you?"
    "hi I'm good."
    "ok........I'm going to the toilet. Bye!"
    I don't know how I ever managed as a journalist when my whole job was to ask people questions!

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  4. These thoughts/this topic is so familiar to me! I agree, and thanks for your encouraging reminder to not take it personally. :)

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  5. I LOVED this. Every bit of it. Parts hit so close to home, and others made me want to cry... I seem to have lots of opportunities to practice friendliness at the moment, but sometimes it's just so darn hard. xo

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  6. I feel for you and I've been in awkward spots like this before. It does frustrate me when it seems like there is nothing but one sided convos and they never seem to go anywhere. I used to think it was me too but I realize that sometimes people just aren't interested. At all.

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  7. Oh yes, this is me! But sometimes I fear I am also the young couple, in that I shut people down who are trying to talk to me. I'm not sure why? I think it's because I am afraid of the awkward pauses that may ensure, so I stop the conversation before it even gets to the awkward pause part.

    Here is my awkward thing: When I am in an awkward situation, I make this slightly audible humming noise, as if to fill the silence that I feel. I have only just started to do it and maybe I have time to stop it before it becomes a habit or other people start to notice. It mainly gets shopped out in the worst part of church for me... the dreaded "say hi to your neighbour" bit. If that bit was cut from church services, I would be so happy. Everyone else turns to everyone else... and so I sit in my chair and make this weird noise to myself. And I wonder why no one says hi!

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  8. Such an entertaining read!! Haven't we all been there. Absolutely loved being in your mind for the last 10mins.

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  9. Why didn't you tell meeee?? I can so relate to these feelings... I just came home from Playtime, where I constantly feel super awkward, trying to make eye contact and conversation with people who sometimes can't be bothered... :)

    Thanks for sharing, and I'm so glad you met the lovely couple!

    xxL

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  10. I liked reading the long version of this event and I'm so glad it had a happy ending on the night. Go you! x

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  11. LOL!! I loved reading this post! I totally understand your feelings, thanks for the reminder that it's not "my fault". :-)

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  12. Oh, you feel that way too?

    And wow, did you ever articulate that amazingly! So THAT's what's going on!

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  14. Oh Danielle, I have felt this way so, so many times!! Right down to the image of the waiting puppy - and wanting to connect, but not be too clingy. (And judging by the comments above, we're not alone... which is so comforting!) Love you so much for writing this!!

    I always feel like these failed conversations are my fault (and I still think it is sometimes... my conversations can be pretty silly!)- but it's comforting to remind oneself that it really does take two willing parties for a conversation and a bit of connection. Kind of cool that you experienced such a stark contrast between the two couples that night...

    I'd be so happy to be sitting next to you at any dinner party! :) xx

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