Weeks 34 & 35 - The Secret to Effective Communication

 

UPDATE – I’m pretty sure I’m running a week or so behind, so we’ll just cover two weeks in one this time around. I’ll even everything out at the end of the year. Back on topic. The second draft of the detective story continues to progress, although it’s slowed down a bit this week because I got another assignment. That one’s taking longer than normal because I’m still adjusting to Windows 11 and the cursor is still acting up. Once this assignment’s done (deadline’s Thursday) I’ll have a week off between jobs. That’s when I’ll take the new laptop back to the place I got it from and have them take a look at it. I’m still within the one-month warranty period so at least I won’t have to pay. Since I no longer have a backup computer I’ll just write longhand and/or type on the library system using a thumb drive. I’m going to see if I can finish the second draft by the end of September. Anything else I’ll do longhand. It worked for the current book, and pens are a lot easier to deal with than a pesky cursor. As long as they don’t run out of ink.

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The new laptop’s misbehaving cursor did come with a plus side: it gave me something to blog about both last week and this week. Between posting last week’s vent and before starting this one, I paid a visit to my local comic shop, mostly to visit with a semi-buddy who works there. As we caught up I told him about my new laptop and the cursor’s case of the zoomies. As it turns out, he’d once owned an iPhone with the same issue, and it drove him as nuts as mine was driving me.

Here's where things get interesting. I asked him how he’d fixed the problem, what the general cause was. Well...he hadn’t. He just lived with it until he couldn’t take it any more, then got another phone. I don’t want to spend another $300 on a laptop, so I’ll let the guys at the shop have at it. Let them do their job.

But his answer to my honest question brought back memories of similar encounters, and similar frustrations. I’ll bet you’ve run into this situation with family, friends and co-workers at one time or another. See if this sounds familiar:

You walk into a room filled with people you know. You start a conversation: “I have (a stomach ache/a car that's stalling out on me/jury duty).” The expected response should be interest or sympathy, depending on your issue. Instead—at least in my case—it’s always been an instant chorus of, “Really? That happened to me/my friend/a relative,” followed by details of their experiences. In the case of the jury duty conversation, this was actually pretty helpful. The others, though, I honestly could have used some advice on how to deal with the problem while I was waiting to see a doctor or a garage mechanic. Sometimes it’s a simple thing that you can fix yourself. I’m all about saving money whenever possible.

So my response in these cases tends to be, “Really? What did you/they do? How did you/they solve the problem?”

The response is invariably a blank stare, followed by verbal fumbling. The more articulate will tell you flat out, “I don’t remember. I think we just got rid of the car/took an aspirin/faked insanity.” Or else they just lived with it, like the comic shop guy and his phone.

It’s taken me years of this, but I think I’ve finally figured out why I can’t get a straight answer on how to deal with my problems. Why, in fact, I have so much trouble fitting in with other people.

While there are plenty of exceptions and lots of decent folk willing to be helpful, the bottom line is this: the average person—strangers, co-workers, friends, family members—doesn’t give a damn about you.  They’re not interested in your problems or helping you solve them. They’d much rather talk about themselves. If you walk up to your homies and announce that, say, “My furnace broke this morning,” the first words out of the first person’s mouth will be, “I had that happen to me.” They’re not commiserating; they’re trying to shut you down. Your announcement has made you the center of attention, and they’re out to grab the spotlight for themselves. That’s why the conversation automatically switches to everyone else’s experiences. They tell their stories and when they’re done, they walk away. This can happen with just one person or an entire room. If you’re lucky, they may remember you with a, “Hey, good luck with that.” Your starring performance just got snatched and converted into a walk-on cameo in their story. It’s flat-out disrespect, but that’s how people are any more.

Except I’m not looking for attention. I’m looking for answers. I want to know why my cursor/car/stomach isn’t behaving. I’m actually happy somebody else once had the same problem I’m having. Which is why my automatic, earnest and hopeful response is, “What did you do about it?”

And they can’t answer. Handing out solutions wasn’t the point. The point was to steal my thunder. Instead of standing there and letting them, I just called them out. Now they have to put up or shut up. That’s not how the script’s supposed to go. Even if they do have an answer, they’re not going to tell me. That would mean I won. So they mumble and fumble and say, “I dunno,” and walk away. And probably complain about me whining to everybody else behind my back.

Compounding my own problems, when someone else says they’ve got an issue, I just assume they want advice. If I have knowledge of the situation, I’ll try to offer solutions based on my own experience. That’s the last thing people want. They don’t want answers. They want sympathy. They want attention. Since it’s mostly women who pull this shit, they’ve already got their husbands to solve their problems for them. They sure as hell don't want some know-it-all bitch pointing out all their shortcomings by actually trying to help.

There’s even an epilogue to this. After dealing with things on my own I’ve come back to announce my solution. All of a sudden, memories improve. “Yeah, that’s what I/my friend/my family member did.” Which once again deflects attention away from me and onto the speaker. The attention hog is vindicated and walks away triumphant. And the next time the company has a layoff or the friend group throws a party, I’m the one who’s cut from the roster or not told about it because nobody wants me around. Seems I just can’t get along with people.

The secret to effective communication is this: when talking to others, never say “I”. Even if you’ve got a question. Say, “You’re the smartest person in the room. Do you know anything about…?” And then don’t say another word. Just stand there and listen. Sooner or later somebody will tell you something useful. Even better, you’ll get a rep around the office or among the friend or family group as a wonderful person and everybody will like you because you’re such a great listener and never seem to complain. Then, as soon as you can, dump those assholes and find new friends and coworkers who are willing to behave like adults and have actual conversations with you, as opposed to one-upmanship contests. Those people are harder to find, but they’re worth it. And this looks like it’s a nice length and should cover two weeks’ worth of blogging. See y’all next week.