Today, I am not at all embarrassed to say, I am an incredibly inexperienced drinker.
My parents’ reprisal carried enough “risk” that I chose to bypass the years when I was young and naïve enough to experiment and make ill-advised decisions with intoxicants.
Sure, I engaged in the social initiation of my 21st birthday and found occasion, in that inaugural year, to go out “partying” with friends. But I found when I was drinking, or around others who were, often personally violating experiences happened. And while I am a self-proclaimed “overachieving learner,” this was one area of life I was content to remain uninformed.
That being said, occasionally, I find myself in a particularly “carefree” mood and I choose to imbibe. Travel often invites this mindset. There is something about stepping away from the responsibilities of everyday life that frees me of my cautious nature and opens me to a more uninhibited way of being.
Awhile back, while waiting to embark on our first ever cruise experience, my husband and I went out for dinner and I impishly said, “I think I am going to order a glass of wine with dinner.”
This acknowledgment always awakens a childlike response in me. I feel both reckless and insecure.
I do not have the first clue about “good pairings.” Or what is meant by “earthy and dry” versus “fruity and full bodied.” None of it means a lick to me and I am not sure I even care. But I must “play adult” and walk this pretentious ordering gauntlet in order to feel the warm elixir slide down my throat and invite me into its easy breezy gauzy state. So, here we go.
“I would like to order a glass of your Pinot Grigio, please.”
“Sure thing. Which one?”
“Oh, you have more than one…I must have missed that on the menu.” (…stall, open the menu, appear distracted and hope they offer a suggestion…)
“Yes, we have several actually, and our house Pinot is a dəb’əl pôr.”
“I’m sorry, your house Pinot is a what?”
“Dəb’əl pôr”
“I’m sorry one more time…?” (feign inability to hear correctly, maybe they will say something different than the term you are unfamiliar with…)
“Dəb’əl pôr”
(Nope, not going to help a poor ignorant soul out…going to have to expose myself…how do I not look like a complete idiot…?)
“I’m not sure I know what that is.”
“It’s a…dəb’əl pôr.”
At this point, I am losing my interest in wine but am now feeling driven to drink! But I still did not want to admit I was not sure if this was a brand, a flavor, or a quality…
“Right, I heard you. I don’t know what those words mean.”
“It’s a dəb’əl …pôr.”
“Ok. Do you not know either? Because if someone tells you they do not understand the words you are using, using them again and placing different space between them does not help. Could you explain what a dəb’əl pôr is without using the words dəb’əl pôr?”
Ken is now hiding his eyes and embarrassed for both of us!
“You get twice the amount of wine for the same price, basically.” (Ohhhhhh…double pour!)
“Great. That sounds brilliant. Let’s do that.”
This is a true story from about 10 years ago. And while I am not proud of my conversational choices, it does serve as a great illustration for yet another way we create obstacles for social connection. We loathe vulnerability…and our uncertainty is a quick path there.
Instead of transparency, I chose to “disguise.” And it was my own insecurity that rendered my ears incapable of understanding very clear phonics. My mind made simple words into complicated and inaccessible vocabulary that I felt quite separate from. I created that…and made our poor waiter “an enemy.”
I have heard it said that people feel a connection when someone has been particularly responsive to a unique need in a specific situation. But that opportunity cannot happen if we are attempting to conceal our “unique need” and are unwilling to be vulnerable with it.
Today, my conversation would have started quite differently because I now understand that most of our conversational skills revolve around one quite simple goal: Creating Space. And in this situation, I could have created the space for our waiter to be “the expert.”
How different would things have gone if instead I said,
“I am considering having a glass of wine with my dinner tonight. But honestly, I really don’t know much about wine. Could you suggest a modestly priced white wine that would pair well with the halibut?”
You can almost HEAR a door swing open and see a spotlight opportunity for the waiter to step into. Although it is possible such an invitation could also provoke an insecurity and elicit an equally defended communication tactic; I had not given either of us space or opportunity to be fully in the conversation.
Today, I recognize I could have created space for my vulnerable “truth” to be present, AND for the waiter’s skills to come forward. And this is where the possibility of connection resides.
Be brave…Share a story with us about a time when you tried to conceal an insecurity or lack of knowledge. What happened during that conversation?
3 responses to “Lost…in Translation”
I laughed out loud many times reading this and expected the waiter to smile kindly at a novice and offer help automatically!
You know how you never forget those occasions when you don’t know what a word means.!!!
I can remember walking into math class in eighth grade and having someone say to me while we waited for the class to start that I was probably a virgin. Since I didn’t even know what the word meant, and I felt he was making fun of me, I responded, “No I’m not!” I had to go figure out what the word meant. That conversation didn’t go any further!!!
Now, I’m giggling. Thanks for sharing, Nancy.
As a woman of a certain age, I am delighted in my new found attitude concerning “playing adult”. It is no longer an obligation! I revel in letting my inner child guide my journeys – ask the question, share the misgivings, listen with rapt attention, cry or laugh as the occasion presents itself, or confess to a lack of knowledge. The responses have been phenomenal! People, for the most part, want to engage and also, for the most part, extend themselves gladly.