The Art of the Backhanded Complement
Years ago, my friend Rich and I were riding the metro home from a baseball game in Baltimore. The two of us, on our own, are generally extroverted. Together, we are extremely extroverted and, so, we started up a conversation with everyone nearby.
One fellow extrovert was a woman, perhaps in her early 30's, who told us that she lived in California but decided that each year, on her birthday, she would spend time seeing a different state. In fact, this particular weekend was the weekend of her birthday and she had come to Maryland for just that occaision: she had given herself the gift of Baltimore.
As she recounted a few other stories of states visited, I remember thinking what a terrific tradition this woman had created for herself. I then started thinking how I would implement such an endeavor. The problem? I'm an engineer. I would start out with all of the states near my home state, branching out as I went. Delaware... Viginia... North Carolina.... by the time I got all the way to the left coast, I would, by algorithm, be near the end of the list.
As we all got off the metro together, we exchanged pleasantries, and I gave this traveler some parting congratulations:
I hope you have a wonderful birthday, and I think your tradition is very creative. It must be exciting to be so close to finishing!
The nanosecond after I uttered this, of course, I realized that this inferred that the 30-ish woman in front of me looked to be at least 50 years old and, quite likely, a great deal older. About a nano-second after that, the backhanded nature of the complement dawned on our conversing companion.
There are lots of ways to write about awkward silence, but very few are good enough to convey just how awkward awkward silence can be. Let it suffice to say that after a pause, we went our seperate ways.
This is, of course, why I don't complement people -- I have a history of getting it wrong. Rarely has this been intentional.
I have told blind people to "drive safely".
I have told someone, earnestly, that their dress resembled a favorite tablecloth.
Upon finding out that a new friend was the same age I was, I exclaimed to her "oh, I didn't realize you were so old too."
And the phrase "ooh, I like xxxxx a little burnt" never quite relays the same gratitude that it should.
So, I think it perhaps best to take a small hiatus from the compliment game, as I seem to generate more good feeling without them. 8)
-Ed
One fellow extrovert was a woman, perhaps in her early 30's, who told us that she lived in California but decided that each year, on her birthday, she would spend time seeing a different state. In fact, this particular weekend was the weekend of her birthday and she had come to Maryland for just that occaision: she had given herself the gift of Baltimore.
As she recounted a few other stories of states visited, I remember thinking what a terrific tradition this woman had created for herself. I then started thinking how I would implement such an endeavor. The problem? I'm an engineer. I would start out with all of the states near my home state, branching out as I went. Delaware... Viginia... North Carolina.... by the time I got all the way to the left coast, I would, by algorithm, be near the end of the list.
As we all got off the metro together, we exchanged pleasantries, and I gave this traveler some parting congratulations:
I hope you have a wonderful birthday, and I think your tradition is very creative. It must be exciting to be so close to finishing!
The nanosecond after I uttered this, of course, I realized that this inferred that the 30-ish woman in front of me looked to be at least 50 years old and, quite likely, a great deal older. About a nano-second after that, the backhanded nature of the complement dawned on our conversing companion.
There are lots of ways to write about awkward silence, but very few are good enough to convey just how awkward awkward silence can be. Let it suffice to say that after a pause, we went our seperate ways.
This is, of course, why I don't complement people -- I have a history of getting it wrong. Rarely has this been intentional.
I have told blind people to "drive safely".
I have told someone, earnestly, that their dress resembled a favorite tablecloth.
Upon finding out that a new friend was the same age I was, I exclaimed to her "oh, I didn't realize you were so old too."
And the phrase "ooh, I like xxxxx a little burnt" never quite relays the same gratitude that it should.
So, I think it perhaps best to take a small hiatus from the compliment game, as I seem to generate more good feeling without them. 8)
-Ed
posted by Ed at 2:24 AM
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