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You've got questions, she's got answers. Be among the first to read Elise Mac Adam's new etiquette guide.
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How to Be a Bore
There are millions of stories in the Naked City, each one just as capable of being tedious as the next. Don't think that just because you're a new parent you have cornered the market on being dull, no, no. With very little practice, anyone can be domineering and enervating. So if you've got a very young child, you can't rest on your laurels. Just because everyone assumes people with infants are hideously boring wrecks doesn't mean there isn't stiff competition out there.
Some weeks ago, I ventured out for dinner with a mixed-crowd, parents, some non-parents and was amazed at how very much like a snake pit the round table seemed. Every conversational gambit that got tossed out threatened to induce obvious eye-rolling from various edges of the table. The subtext (if rolled eyes can have one) took one of several forms:
"Of course she's talking about [poop, sleep, strollers, doctors, surgery, analgesics, massage] she's one of those horrible new mothers."
"Of course he's going on about [poop, sleep, squeaky toys, attachment issues] he's got a dog."
"Of course she can't shut up about [poop, sleep, foot massage, running shoes, the chiropracter, dietary supplements], she's training for the marathon."
"If I hear another word about [poop, sleep, sun salutes, why sugar is evil, the reflexologist], I'm going to have to strangle yoga girl."
You see? Anyone can put the table to sleep. The whole meal made me rather self-conscious. High school in Manhattan was a cocktail party training ground. I practiced hard to develop the Art of the Zinger and the Quick Anecdote, and my ego still has scars from being hastily dismissed for not being entertaining enough. One of the fears that plagued me while I was pregnant was that I might lose my mind and become the kind of new mother that everyone complains about, the kind of woman who can't talk of anything beyond the wonders of her child, the pleasures and angst of breastfeeding, or the daily diaper count. I cringed when someone asked me how I delivered Felix because I could feel the folks around me start to rustle in their seats. I gave the short answer.
But I really shouldn't have worried. Sadly, being a bore demonstrates great power. It takes guts to dominate a table with nonsensical blather, intimate obsessions, and bossy monologues. Really, no one, no one at all wants to hear about the excretory practices of strangers unless the story is particularly spectacular, and no one wants to be preached at about the evils of certain types of food at a tasty restaurant.
Given that the tendency to exhaust one's companions resides in everyone, why does the new mother have such a bad reputation? Is it because it is easy to single out her kind as being unglamorous or spoiled or insular or condemned to baby talk? She is not so very different from everyone else (see the conversation topics above), which is to say, she may be fascinating or she may be something of a soporific.
The problem is that being a bore isn't considered such a bad thing. It is. In acting classes and parenting books alike, there is the constant recommendation to listen to the people around you. Only in hearing what other people have to say can you form an appropriate and clever response. Bring back the Zinger, I say. I just had a kid and I'm craving entertainment.
posted by Elise at 12:27 PM
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