As I wrote in the very first installment of Things That Are Terrible, the exhibition of certain niceties is required in order to maintain a functioning, civilized society. I discussed the various tradeoffs of this social arrangement in depth in that essay, focusing special attention on the annoying habit of strangers holding doors open for other, distant strangers. In this chapter, I will examine a different, but nonetheless terrible, aspect of living amongst other humans. This time, I’ll focus on interacting with the most dreaded of all social creatures, the acquaintance.
During my undergraduate years, I had the pleasure/misfortune to know a young gentleman who I’ll call David Nixon. Dave was a walking stereotype cut from the Charlie Brown cloth. If we lived within a cartoon fantasy world, a small, dark raincloud would be perpetually perched over Dave’s head. One time, I was walking around campus and ran into Dave. Because I had not seen him in several weeks (a strange absence, since we lived on the same floor in the same dormitory), I asked where he had been. In response, he lifted his shirt to reveal a freshly stitched incision on his lower abdomen. “My appendix burst,” he explained. If it had been literally anyone else, I would have been shocked. But for Dave, this was merely par for the course.
I bring up Dave Nixon because he epitomizes a certain phenomenon that is limited to people you don’t know very well and for whom you do not care deeply. As I mentioned, societal norms require us to exchange pleasantries with people we recognize. It’s generally understood, for example, that when you ask someone in passing “How are you doing?,” the only acceptable answer is a one-word reply along the lines of “Good,” followed by asking the same question to you. Again, this is a concession we make so that we can exist in a civilization. Neither party is truly interested in the cognitive or emotional state of the other, and both are usually on their way to a certain destination. Unfortunately, there are people, Dave among them, who do not understand or refuse to conform to this convention. They take “How are you?” not as a simple politeness, but as an invitation to launch into a checklist of grievances. Here is a hypothetical exchange:
Me:
“Hey, Dave, how’s it going?”
Dave:
“Not too good, man. Trish kicked me out of the apartment, and her two asshole brothers are there all the time so I can’t even get my stuff. I’m also failing out of my English course because of all the classes I missed because of my surgery. I got caught in the rain yesterday and all of my cigarettes got wet, and I can’t afford to buy anymore…”
Me:
(eyes roll back into skull as frontal lobe disengages and reptilian brain takes over basic biological functions)
Being caught in these situations is the conversation equivalent of the 1979 Iranian hostage crisis; you are held captive by a fanatic whose motives are beyond your experience and comprehension. Mores dictate that you have to tolerate a certain amount of this, as it would be uncouth to yell “Eat shit, I have to get to class!” as soon as the third word escapes their face hole. You instead have to try to keep your senses keen so you can exploit any natural break in the conversation and use it to escape.
The other terrible thing about these situations is that the nature of the person’s answer makes it basically impossible to respond to them. Refer to the above example again. Keep in mind that such an exchange takes place in a public space while you are on your way to someplace. Also recall that this person is merely an acquaintance, not a close friend or confidante. What the hell are you supposed to say to something like that? If it were a real friend, you could use your knowledge of their personality and past experiences to provide some heartfelt words of wisdom. But your knowledge of this person is restricted to what they look like, perhaps their full name, and that they know some of the same people as you. The only way to mitigate the awkwardness is to quickly offer some meaningless platitudes and beat a hasty retreat.
It is said that no man is an island. Our social and biological needs require interaction with other humans to be met. Much of the time, these encounters are beneficial. Living in a society allows us steady access to food, power, housing, and so much shameful, anonymous sexual intercourse. However, there are drawbacks, ranging from the major (crime, disease, etc.) to the minor (awkward and unavoidable encounters with various weirdos). While the latter are certainly less severe, they are also more common, and thus can be considered a worthy entry into the hallowed halls of Things That Are Terrible.
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