Please excuse me, but would you be so kind as to Shut Up! (if it's not a bother) -- Thank you
It’s soccer season again, and Sport’s back on a team of familiar kids (Go Wildcats!) and his favorite coach. At the game on Saturday, I sat with a few other soccer moms, watching our kids kill the other team (7-1), exchanging pleasantries, and enjoying the beautiful morning.
At least I tried to enjoy it, but behind me, surrounded by a gaggle of groupies, was The Blowhard. I’d never seen him before, but he was all too familiar. You know this guy. His lungs are fully developed from years of diaphragm training and time spent performing in community theater. He’s already starting to perfect the comb-over, and his clothes are much more flamboyant then the sweatshirts and jeans worn by the other men nearby. He’s charming, or at least he believes he’s charming, and can always attract a small crowd of desperate women hoping to find Mr. Right #3. He’s met important people and will drop names, has anecdotes and stories to meet every situation, can always turn the conversation back to his favorite subject: Him!
I was trying to tune him out. I really was. I would have moved away, but there’s only one set of bleachers -– metal, 3-tiered -– not very comfortable, but better than sitting down in a bunch of stickers. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d been talking at normal volume, but for some reason, he was projecting his voice over the bleachers and across the field to the chain-link fence.
“Of course, I’ve worked on Broadway…”
“$2000 dollars a month for an apartment! And it was so tiny…”
“Yes, I actually had dinner with So and So. He’s a really nice guy, but a little short…”
And on and on and on. It got so distracting, I almost missed Sport’s goal. I could feel my rage building. Nothing would have satisfied me more than to turn around and scream at him to “Shut Up!” But I was brought up with better manners than that. When it got too much to bear, I walked around the field to get a different perspective, not only of the game, but of myself.
Maybe the problem is with me. I'm too polite. Not assertive enough. I'm a wimp. I was having a conversation with Shank last week that underscores this assertion. My yoga teacher was sick and we found ourselves with a last minute sub who actually teaches Pilates. Had no yoga experience. She had us all drag out the exercise balls and warm up with some simple step moves. I was definitely not feeling it. I was in the mood for yoga -- elegant, calm, restful. Instead, I got a glimpse of myself tossing a little ball in the air while doing some hamstring stretches. Not a good image.
I contemplated leaving. I really did. But another woman beat me to the punch, and I didn't want the poor instructor to get down to the end of class with only a handful of losers barely hanging on. I was brave. I stuck it out. But I wasn't happy about it. Not happy at all.
Shank thinks my inability to leave the classroom was a good thing. It's true, I wanted to spare the instructor's feelings. He said he'd have done the exact same thing. Perhaps, as he says, it's some sort of Protestant guilt thing. He thinks Protestants get ripped off in the Acknowledgement of Guilt category behind Jews and the Catholics. We Protestants are positively dripping with it! His hypothesis: "I'm starting to formulate an idea about how politeness is the great lost art of our time, and part of politeness is the stiff-upper-lipped acceptance of temporarily uncomfortable situations."
So with The Blowhard, I chose to be polite. I removed myself. But one of these days, I'm going to tell somebody to shut up. And I'll probably throw in a "please" and a "thank you", just for good measure.
4 comments:
Oh my Gosh! How do I respond? As you know I am perfectly able to tell someone to be quiet. Could it be because I am Catholic? We are our brother's keepers after all...
The title cracked me up. Storyteller's into this "Would you ever so kindly..." I'm serious. It would sound pretty snotty but she does it so cutely, and her eyes just shine with merriment.
One thing I'll agree with Shank. The major problem in our world today is that folks are not polite to one another anymore. We've lost all sense of manners. Won't it be nice if people cared for one another.
Oh I should just get back to work.
Pastgrace
If I were on another blog I might post at length about the days before the feminization of men where your male accompaniment (for you wouldn't attend a public event
without one) would've risen and said, "I'll thank you to contain your voice, suh!" That asks him to shut up and uses polite words. Now I just pray my wife's mouth doesn't write a check my body can't cash.
I'm not sure I get the guilt thing, but I see guilt and uncertainty as ends of a spectrum and Protestants are much further down the path of uncertainty. There's no confession. No penance to soothe your conscience. You just have to hope that what you've done (or haven't) doesn't come back to bite you on judgement day.
I concur with the stiff upper lip part of Shank's nascent philosophy, though. As in martial arts, I try to use the negative energy from the rudeness of others to make myself stronger by enduring their trepidations. You should've left the class, though. She gets paid either way. It was she who broke the 'contract'. I think you secretly wanted to try Pilates.
By the way, the "Eats, Shoots and Leaves" author has a new book out about rudeness called "Talk to the Hand."
I agree with Shank in that politeness is a lost attribute of our society. The book, "Talk to the Hand" is about how rude our society is nowadays. I work in an academic setting and I didn't realize how rude we've become with our cell phones until I've had to enforce a no-cell atmosphere. I think if others were as considerate and polite as you, we'd have a much better society.
ah ha! I must admit I do so love the new blogger. I moved everything over tonight.
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