Rudely Interrupted
The stories of bad manners over at Jonniker’s post are apt to curl your hair. Rudeness abounds, apparently, particularly among our families-in-law and surrounding special occasions. The combination of the two – weddings! – is a powder keg, especially because it involves gift-giving and catering and lots and lots of money. Soliciting gifts! Proffering laxatives to encourage weight loss! Holocaust references! Reading those comments should have made me feel superior, right? I write thank-you notes. I get along with my mother-in-law. I strive not to tell people they look like concentration camp survivors. But as I read, I began to cringe. Because some of those stories could have been written about me.
Confessions:
-Before I had a kid, breastfeeding kind if icked me out, and I expressed disdain for the idea of nursing past a certain age.
-I once called a bride and asked if I could bring a date to her wedding, even though the invitation was addressed only to me.
-I did not make an effort to greet all the guests at my own wedding reception.
-I’ve made comments to a friend, favorably comparing the size of my home with the size of her smaller home.
-I’ve straight-out asked people about their ethnic backgrounds.
RUDE, RUDE, RUDE. I’ll admit it. I do strive toward good manners, but sometimes I fail. And all of the incidents above have context that might make them sound slightly less horrifying, but they probably really bothered someone who was around when they happened, maybe even the people involved, probably people who I love and would never want to offend. They all involve situations that make me uncomfortable. And so I avoid them (see: wedding reception) or over-compensate by trying to justify them (see: house conversation, breastfeeding conversation) or just plow ahead with the discussion, searching for a bright light and a point that everyone can agree upon. Never mind that I may have shocked everyone in the room.
I am not easily offended. I like to talk about what’s really going on, what I’m really thinking. I want to hear what you’re really thinking. Most of the time, unless it’s way over the top or a repeated problem (a family friend who never fails to make a sexist remark to me each time I see him comes to mind), I see rudeness as either a manifestation of nerves, a colorful personality, or laughable idiocy. I try not to take it personally. But I’ve finally learned that most people don’t really feel like that. (Well, except the Germans. And maybe the Dutch.) (See? Now I’ve offended some people. But probably not anyone who is really German or Dutch.)
And I find it all a bit exhausting. Hurt feelings are one thing – I do my best, and sometimes fail, not to be insensitive. But taking a circuitous route to asking a question or sharing an opinion just because culture dictates it annoys me. If a good friend who is known to be a bit spacey invites me to her wedding and doesn’t put my fiance’ on the invitation, I’m going to quietly ask if she would mind if he comes. (She said yes. She just forgot to put “and guest” on the envelope. Wouldn’t it have been a bummer if I’d gotten angry and felt slighted because of her perceived rudeness in excluding my date? Then again, maybe she still can’t believe I called and asked if he could come. I’ll never know.) If I have questions about nursing and how it feels and wonder why someone would want to extend it into toddlerhood, I’m going to ask, hopefully of someone who will answer me honestly and confidently, but I don’t know, sometimes I misjudge my audience. However, if living abroad taught me one thing, it’s that behavior is judged on a continuum. There are few objective standards of right and wrong, rude and polite, cruel and kind.
I’m sure I’ve horrified some of you with my behavior. But I’ll bet you have some confessions too. Here’s your chance. Any rudeness you’d like to share?
First, a comment or two about your supposed rudeness – I would find it totally acceptable to ask if bringing a date to a wedding was okay. Also, I don’t find it particularly rude to ask a person what their ethnicity is, as long as it’s done in a way that conveys curiosity about what makes us us, rather than looking for something to mock/lord over someone (and knowing you, I’m sure it was the former).
Now, on to my own rudeness. It abounds, every day. I’m usually the loudest person in a room, and have a tendency to overtake the energy in a room. If it were similar to the way a Nobel laureate can command the energy in a room, that would be one thing, but it strikes me more as the way Tom Arnold does.
I also tend to be a tad condescending (especially to the minions that I command at work – wait…), while at the same time hiding it as “frankness” or whatever. Not sure which of those are more annoying.
Once, many years ago, I outed a friend as a lesbian to a few people who didn’t know. I was young, had no idea what a huge, huge deal it was (I think I was 16?) and didn’t know it wasn’t common knowledge. Maybe not intentionally rude, but MAN, it haunts me to this day.
I can’t be friends with really sensitive people because I’m the same way.
The first example of rudeness I can think of is when I was making some kind of dumb comment about a humongous extended SUV and then it turned out that one of my friends had the same SUV and was really offended. I’m so rude that I feel bad about it.
Tom, the longer I’ve lived in an urban area, the more I see the cultural differences between where we grew up and, well, The Big City. I think the wedding invitation thing is one of them. Most of the weddings I attended before my twenties were just published in the newspaper and whoever wanted to show up stopped by and ate some cake.
Also, I’ve never associated you with Tom Arnold. You have much better judgment than to marry Roseanne.
Jonniker, now that you mention it, I did the same thing. I was slightly older but felt the same way. It seemed like such good news that my friend was sharing, and it was not at all surprising to me, so why shouldn’t I share it? Ack.
R, I can’t be friends with really sensitive people either. I terrify them, especially because I seem quite mild-mannered at first and then (accidentally) zing them when they aren’t expecting it.
Sandi tells me its rude to comment on people’s blogs with any real, yet negative views you may have regarding their posts. So, this is a very interesting topic.
I seriously put my foot my in my mouth ALL THE TIME. It’s usually about pretty inane things, but yeah, I’ve been know to disparage something that someone “OMG, loves!” and then I end up feeling like a huge ass. Which, you know, sometimes I totally am a huge ass.
Recently I gave someone a book they were excited to read (Hi, Sookie Stackhouse #10) after I had bought and read it and was all “Here you go! It SUCKS.” Niiiice, Kerri.