I ordered dinner the other night from the local pizza joint – they had a coupon for two appetizers for $10 so I picked mozzarella sticks and loaded fries for me (yeah, I know it’s not healthy at all but hey, we can’t all be perfect) and a philly steak sandwich for Gravetender Hubby. Gravetender Baby had already eaten (organic beef and veggie lasagna…that kid eats better than his parents all the time!) and was safely tucked away in his crib.
The delivery guy knocked on the door 20 minutes later and handed me the goodies and the receipt. As he turned to leave I said, “Have a good night” and he said “It’s a little too late for that.” Now I know what you’re thinking…that I didn’t tip him. But if you are thinking that, you are wrong because I surely did tip him, the same amount I always tip him (we order from this place A LOT…like I said, we’re not perfect). Anyway, he said it with a smile and I thought it was hilarious! After all, how often are people honest with their responses to common social greetings/questions/acknowledgments? Isn’t it always the same (often un-true) answer? For example:
Jim: “How are you?”
Bob: “I’m fine, how are you?”
Jim: “Fine.”
Or:
Tasha: “Nice day, isn’t it?”
Amy: “Yes, it is. I hope the sun keeps shining.”
Or:
Pete: “Have a good night!”
Emma: “Thanks – you too!”
Why doesn’t it ever go like this:
Jim: “How are you?”
Bob: “How do you think I am? And why do you even care?”
Jim: Quickly moves away from Bob.
Or:
Tasha: “Nice day, isn’t it?”
Amy: “Look – I didn’t get any sleep last night because my husband snores like a freight train and I got a speeding ticket on my way to work. So no, it’s not a nice day!”
Or:
Pete: “Have a good night!”
Emma: “F*&^ off.”
Why do we (and by we, I mean the 99%) constantly feel the need to be polite? These are the norms ingrained in us by society but by always being polite we are also inherently dishonest. If only we could live like kids again…kids are always honest. To a fault. Like my seven-year old cousin who I hadn’t seen in a while – after giving me a big hug she said, “Auntie, why are you so fat?”
Note to self: Stop eating mozzarella sticks and loaded fries.
Mozarella Sticks
Anyway, I doubt this habit of answering dishonestly when someone asks how you are doing will ever go away. At least in our minds we can conjure up creative responses that we only wish we could say without fear of becoming a social pariah. Henceforth, the next time someone tells me, “Have a good night,” I will smile and think, “It’s a little too late for that.”
Gravewords 