August 3, 2008
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The barrista seems difficult to me. I think what happened is that he is not being polite anymore and when he doesn’t like something he doesn’t hide it. I always sit outside and now he brings his little cup out and joins me when he can. He tells me about the people sitting inside.
The last three times I’ve been in there the subject of communication has come up. The first time in reference to his failing marriage. The second was when I told him about the wonderfully amazing conversation I overheard between two of his patrons, one of the men relating a discussion he’d had with his wife. And the third was this morning.
The last time I’d seen him he told me about how he was closing the store one day in September and holding a three-hour seminar on communication. I said I was interested. But right before that he said something startling. After I told him about the remarkable conversation I’d overheard he said, “That’s right, you don’t know much about men.”
This was the second time he’s left me confused and speechless. I am trying to make a good impression, as he is in a position to help me meet a man. Plus, I like him. I feel a certain simpatico with him. So I didn’t say anything about my experience with men. In fact, I decided his statement was true. The kinds of men who hang out there are worlds apart from the kind of man I’ve been dealing with.
So today when he sat down, plaintively, I missed the cue. I was rambling on about how good it was to get out and soak up new stuff. I was telling him about going to the very restaurant who makes his pastries. I was relaying another conversation I’d overheard. The man was a writer from Manhattan. He had left his cushy job to come to Oregon, and, as he told his coworker about the college gig he used to have and how he traded it all in for the kind of weekend he was describing, I hung onto every, eloquent word.
We were sitting on a patio with perennials, just one mile from the fast-food and car lots which predominate my landscape, but it might as well have been Martha’s Vineyard. I was explaining this to the barrista. The part that pissed him off was when I described the writer. He was small with bad skin, weird hair, and ugly shoes. The barrista is short, which I had forgotten. And he is a little overweight, which, who cares. So he cut me off with an annoyed tone and launched into his schpeel about the seminar.
It’s starting to sound not free. And like “The Secret.” And that’s cool but I felt like I was talking to someone selling a pyramid thing. And what I wanted to talk about was what men hear when women talk. Or what he heard when I talked.
Because we had an issue. A woman went into the coffee shop, just to use the bathroom. He explained when I wondered why he wasn’t getting up. He used it as an example of how he’s evolved, saying before he’d be all judgmental about how she wasn’t really going to buy coffee next Saturday “when she gets paid.” He used a line, no doubt from some brochure, the gist being everything is okay just as it is, because that’s how it’s supposed to be.
I was thinking good for him because I would be more uptight. I said my style of parenting was to make a rule so that I didn’t have to arbitrarily decide case by case. This came up because we were speculating about other people wanting to use his restroom. That’s when I saw him get defensive.
He pretended he didn’t hear me when I said, “What about when she tells the others and they start showing up.” She looked down on her luck and ‘the others’ I referred to were the homeless. I saw him stiffen, ignore it, and then say, “What?”
That’s when I went into the part about my parenting style. Really, I was portraying myself as chicken, saying I took the easy way out, having blanket rules so that I didn’t have to have the conversation. He didn’t like what he was hearing.
It was a perfect example of poor communication between men and women. He said, in a defensive voice, that he was thinking about getting a lock and key for the bathroom. I didn’t get a chance to explain, as a customer came and he had to go. I love that he lets people use his bathroom.
I’m glad he’s married.
Comments (12)
I agree with you on both points – glad he lets people use his bathroom, glad he’s married.
Haha. Your last sentence is worth to ponder. I love the post, very interesting. I guess we can say women know nothing about men and men know nothing about women.
Venus and Mars.
Dave says if we didn’t have a vaginal we’d have a bounty on us!! LOL…marilyn
I’m going to have to agree with every one else and add that I don’t think there will ever be a day that I understand men… or that they’ll ever understand me.
And thank you for your comment, it was sweet.
It is always interesting to read about your life encounters. The way you write engages me, invites me to sit in the chair beside you as you carry on your conversation with the barista. However, I had to make my own coffee and bring it with me…lol.
Your writing takes me along as your life unfolds and you and the others are the rich and sometimes complicated characters in it. You being the heroine in your books, I sometimes find myself cheering you on, warning you to “look out for that one”, and hanging on your every articulate word. I am always waiting with anticipation for what happens next.
From what little you have shared on the barista, I would say he would benefit more from a workshop that you would give….in communication. >lol<
Love and hugs, Ms. Liz
ryc: thank you…yes, I am working on it…life is just wayyyyyyy to short.
I agree with Ashes_2_Ashes_Words_2_Words: I think he might learn more from you than vice versa.
Something seems off in the conversation, like you were each having a different conversation than the other thought you were having.
I have no idea why this guy and this environment with you in it seem so whimsical to me. I had to laugh at your last line even. There’s a “who’ on first” kind of vibe to it.
And his defensiveness and almost immediate acceptance of your implied suggestion create such characters.
I think there is massive communication going on and I wish I could see it because there would be messages in the movements.
You make me want to go to the college coffee shop and look at the guys. I think I might do that tomorrow.
Sounds like you both have something to learn from each other. Whenever I am dealing with a diffiucult person who takes things the wrong way, I remind myself that this is an opportunity to be patient. Also when people misunderstand what I say, I try to be more direct and to-the-point. Some people really can’t read into what we are saying beyond what we are actually saying.
Generally I actually have an easier time communicating with men than with woman. Women often expect you to read between the lines or find some subtle message, or they will say one thing and mean another. Or they will say one thing and test to see how you respond, and judge you based on them saying something that they didn’t mean in the first place. Women confuse me. Men, on the other hand, say exactly what they mean, no hidden messages, no context clues.
Have a great weekend.
~Amy
Ahhhhhhhhhhh, I got up around 4:45 this morning so that gives me a little time to make a very selective round to pop in on my faves! I hope all is well with you and your journey. I know I have been gone more than I have been here….but are you writing? Such a marvelous gift you have! I have a long day ahead, I just finished working on phase I of seventeen new masks…I am so running out of time. However, I must say I LOVE IT! This dance of intimacy with creating. Love it!
Hugs, Ms. L.
Good Morning Pru! Thank you for your comments. #7 happens to be one of my Favorites too, though it is like having to choose between your children. All of these masks are made from New Mexico Red Clay.
Have a great day and Thanks again for coming by.
~hugs~ L.
I came by to see if you post anything. I hope you had a wonderful weekend.
Go read Eat Pray Love. Your book might be entitled Dance Eat Love.