Casual Entropy

Tag: writing

  • Dyslexic Readers

    When do we actually learn to ‘read a/the room’? Let me rephrase that. I am damn sure that this is actually something that has been proven with actual data and facts and a liberal use of high end expensive brain scans, similar to the studies showing how children can start to learn the benefits of lying around the age of one; something in the brain receives that positive feedback to the lie and then cements itself in the “productive” region of our pre-frontal lobe; then for the rest of our lives we fight against it telling ourselves we are bad for utilizing a skill I feel can and is a gift. Few other animals lie and in reality isn’t that something spectacular? But that is a conversation I think for another time.

    Tangent aside, reading the emotional state of a room is a huge skill I would say is up there with lying. And having a young niece who at this time is a little over 3, she has even her moments where she can see something is not quite right. And not by staring at body language either. Tone or words or even just the silence where silence should not be, she is picking up on those queues. Is she learning this at day-care? what in our brain is the positive feedback to show us that something is going on, that we might be the cause, and therefore we might change our [insert emotion, act, tone, language, physical placement of body], as we are listening to our ability to ‘read the room’. A skill I guess that is just highly underrated.

    Only because we are actually picking up on (and god forgive me for using this terminology but it sadly fits) the vibe. Lets just remove the whole ‘body language’ aspect of being human. I would say this is something far easier to learn as hiding physical body language is a difficult thing for a person to not only recognize they are doing, but to go an then correct it; let alone hiding micro expressions (just do a quick search on Paul Ekman and you’ll see what I mean). So with this in mind, reading another persons energy via body language can, and I will say personally, is an easier trick no? That somehow it is, and I feel I have no actually clue if this is why, but something learned by our species prior to verbal language and expressive grunts.

    So then what happens when we only hear an individual. Or just even something written down. (again something I hate saying) as a millennial, will I be a part of the last generation to learn body before verbal? Due to the years of my developmental stages being spent in physical conversations and proximity to others near my age, where now with even schooling taking place in confined walls and space, where do the children go to learn these physical traits? Maybe this is why my niece at such a young age picks up on the awkward silences during a family dinner when conversation about our shared father (grandfather to her) and his less than stellar availability these past couple decades. She will ask if things are ‘okay’ from another room, not witnessing the slumped shoulders or furrowed eyebrows across our faces. Are we soon to enter a realm where body language entirely phases out? Is this why so many believe AI voiced over systems? Will bad dubbed Kung Fu movies make a comeback seeing as it will only matter what is said and not the 5 second delay in the lips?

    And why do I care? I guess because in this post, I want to share some love to a group of normally very underpaid individuals in the US society. I have ever only known really the back of house when it comes to the resturant industry. Minus a small stint when I was young acting as barback and busboy, my skills resided with a knife in had, Slightly Stoopied playing over a small speaker and the smell of BO somehow always within grasp. for my short stint in the culinary industry, that is still where my love and pride remain and if I can, you bet I will buy beers for the back of house, especially the people doing the dishes.

    But lets talk about the front of house folks. The hostess, waiters, and barbacks. Bartenders are not getting a shoutout because while not all exhibit it, show me five random bartenders who do not already have a head full of self-righteous indignation. The times I would hear a bartender near end of night complain to a cook that they had to make a drink again because the person said it was too “this or that” when the whole cook team was on hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen clean, sweat still dripping from their foreheads. And lets not forget those moments when a bartender would ask to get their meal during clean up. I get they send drinks back as we send food forward but there is a clear give and take my guys. The audacity to say to the cooks “bartenders are the reason restaurants get tips” when that night, the line cook beside me just had to refire 3 new dishes on top of his massive chit count, because a lady at table 10 did not know the differences in meat temperature, ultimately on the 4th try ordering a seasonal turkey dish that was sent back due to her wondering why her chicken tasted funny. I know there are bartenders out there who are down to earth and easy going, but I think even they would agree, the 25 dollar cocktails, curled mustaches, sleeve tattoos and bralette only, ‘too cool for school’ attitude is genuinely exhausting and looks honestly sad when the vast majority of your time is spent making two ingredient cocktails and opening up the tops of cans and bottles.

    As for the Barbacks, hostess, and the waiters congrats on your job. For I feel this is one of the last positions a person can truly become literate in reading a room.

    I feel like we have all either seen or heard about a situation from a friend or family member, or even your co-worker. X person is sitting at a restaurant and across from them or within ear shot there are two people having an argument or even to the level some would consider fighting. You cant tell if the two are in the middle of just a regular argument, maybe they are simply continuing a fight they were having previously and now it is just followed them to a social situation. Or maybe something just happened to spark the heated discussion. All you know though, is that this conversation does not seem like it will be ending well. You or the person telling this story talk about how they turned they chair or head ever so slightly to listen in, after all we mustn’t forget the impact schadenfreude has on our developed/ing brains, and trying their best to listen in to it all. At this point some loud clanking of flatware is hitting the plates or glasses a little too hard, the two are consistently leaning into the direction of the other so as to keep what are clearly not whispering whispers quite, one individual sits back in a huff and crosses their arms and the other reaches across spouting what sounds like apologies or maybe that individual follows suit leaning back hurling a quite yet very audible insult across the cooling main courses hardly touched, and just when it seems like one of the individuals is about to loose their “cool” a waiter steps right up and asks “how is everything”

    A palpable pain is felt am I right? It hurts so much you can feel it even tables away. One person not making eye contact or even trying to shrug the waiter off with a smile stating ‘everything is great thank you’

    I start to understand why so many other countries waiters simply do the minimum needed to be a waiter. Take food and drink orders, drop off said orders, and when all is said and done come back to take payment. Easy said and done. Let the individuals eat, or complain, or fight, but what is there moment is theirs and one does not need to interfere. It is not an easy job and it has to take a lot of effort to learn when to not approach a table.

    And not to mention I have personally had the other version. Out to dinner with a partner of mine when she grabs my hand from across the table, a bottle of wine imbibed between the two of us already at this point, she bits her bottom lip to follow the statement of “I want you to fuck me…” ‘and how is everything tonight’ a worried waiter states having clearly overheard the previous statement.

    So yes, this is a love letter to waiters who can read the room. Who see their sections and tables for what they are and act not only appropriately but providing the upmost service. I think about a gesture my siblings and I once received out. We had just finished attending the funeral of our uncle, only a couple months after burying our own mother, tear ducts still raw from the previous weeks, and sitting down to a meal at a table, our waiter came over seeing us in attire (not the most suitable for this restaurant), turn around and come back so she could drop off the bottle of cheap tequila and glasses simply saying “on the house, let me know when you are ready to order” and walked away.

    A moment very grand but lost on us all at the time.

    But grand gestures are not the only way. It could also just be a waiter who understands that you are out to a brunch with your friends and from a far can tell if they need the lively up-beat version of themselves to get a round of drinks going, or maybe these plans for brunch were made in an already heavily binging of alcohol the night before and a more reserved waiter dropping off pitchers of water is what is needed in this moment.

    So an applause for those who are doing a difficult job with aplomb.

    For those wondering why they can not seem to read a room or other peoples emotions, maybe pick up a part time shift and see for yourself. I can not imagine there is a waiter out there who has crossed paths with a fighting couple at a table and not walked away learning a little something from it. Or maybe there is and simply they do not care. I would say they are the AI generative forms of the art world. A place where one can showcase great skill and yet simply phone it in.

    My hope would be though that with the ever evolving divide that is here and increasing when it comes to the splitting of individual and individual, that we step away from the self ordering QR codes and table numbers, and create a place where even at the most social setting of a restaurant, we allow for the room to be read. Otherwise I fear others will become dyslexic readers.

    *The waiter who interrupted me and my partners intimate moment stopped coming by the table after she had heard what my partner said, but instead had another waiter take our table for a while. Upon dropping the check off she was back to apologize quite awkwardly and she also gave us a couple chocolate dipped strawberries to take home. Maybe there are perks to being heard, just maybe don’t overdue it.

  • Cry Me a River

    When I was 13 years old I sat in front of a Dr who was describing to me that I had an affliction passed on from my parents, ADHD. While he was talking he made mention that this was why even during our conversation, I would stare out his window of his small mountain town office, while he was trying to explain to me, a 13 year old, how the brain synapsis fire wrong. That due to the ADHD and due to my ‘other’ genetic issues, these “fire-ing’s” were not meeting with each other giving me a lapse in my attention. He stated (all in full seriousness) that this trait was a positive thing if I were “a hominid living in the dawn of man because I could help give awareness of the oncoming danger around” but was ultimately useless in our modern day world. This Dr’s daughter and I went to the same school at the time, and two days prior to my appointment, she came to school and placed a bloody knife in the locker of her then boyfriend with a note that stated something along the lines of “this is how you make me feel when you don’t call or talk to me”. I asked the Doctor what part of the brain would lead a person to do this.

    I think that was the moment the Dr started to dislike me.

    After each medication I would try, at some point mounting to an avalanche of little white pills, the Dr and I would have a “visit” to discuss the medications and what was wrong with the last one. I was about 3 months into one of my medication choices, Vyvanse (a very popular ADHD drug), when I stopped taking it in secrete because it would destroy my appetite for the entire day. I am sorry but even I could tell the benefit of paying attention to whatever movie the substitute chose this time was not worth the hunger pangs I would get when the medication would wear off around 4 that afternoon. The Dr told me this was fine and normal and should continue to take the medication regardless. I insisted we should try a new medication as the patient.

    During another visit the Dr told me to stop being ‘Sad’. Round of applause for this guy am I right? I can understand I was a little shit at this point and can take some fault; he was only trying to describe to me the next new drug I was to be taking and I upset him by only responding to whatever he said with ‘Fair’.

    “this medication will maybe have some adverse reactions including a diminish in your appetite”

    ‘fair’

    “if you think it is affecting your sleep stop taking it or contact me”

    ‘fair’

    “do you understand that this medication should and is against the law to share with anyone else in your school”

    ‘fair’

    “this is serious and you need to stop saying Fair to me and tell me you understand me”

    ‘fair’

    See, little shit. But also, if a 15 year old with ADHD and Dyslexia and whatever other things I may have been diagnosed with gets under your skin as a Dr, (someone with his own children), maybe look into something else or reevaluate your job? I would say it is very rare I get flustered to this level and I think I am still half his age now as he was then.

    One time on the drive home my mom asked why the Dr. thought I was depressed. She made mention that maybe I should be tested and if I had any dark thoughts. Ones where I wanted to hurt myself.

    I am not sure the look I gave her but she dropped the conversation very quickly. Dark thoughts? That part of the world had never even come close to crossing my mind. If anything, I was probably thinking about something along the likes of “that Starfire character from Teen Titans is kind of hot” or whatever was to happen that coming weekend seeing as school at that time had little to interest me besides English and science class.

    What I do recall though is I was and still am at times a little melancholy. And in even writing that I would like to state that I enjoy being melancholy from time to time. I miss being able to feel this way without being judged or considered depressed or in need of therapy or medication to make me happy. I recall that very thought over 15 years ago even now. Why does everyone need to be ‘happy’. Is it okay to want to just sit and think and be pensive? Do we need to drown out the moments in our lives that make us a little or even fully uncomfortable?

    My girlfriend right now is uncomfortable at the fact that I don’t really cry either. She has in fact stated that she “savors the day” she will get to see me cry. Let alone I think that’s a little strange, the want to see someone so hurt they cry. Do I feel judged for not crying when others tend to? I mean who wouldn’t. Its not like sit around and judge those who cry at the slightest happenstance like a video of a tiny kitten sitting in a teacup.

    I think the last time I cried a little was a friend of mines wedding. He looked so over joyed with happiness and love and when his soon to be wife walked down the aisle, there was a sense of pride I felt for him, his wife, and even a little for myself, that I should be so deeply honored to be a guest and an individual at such a special occasion.

    But just a day ago, a man I grew up with, an Uncle of mine who was while not blood to my father, a best friend of his, past away after a few years of battling various painful ailments and sicknesses. I respect my friends for asking me if I am alright, which I am right now. I had not talked with my uncle in years and seeing as most information I got about him came from my father who is a little estranged in our family, his passing is sad to me, but not tears sad. At a funeral for my best friends mom a little over a year ago, I recall crying a bit at the funeral. Kay was a pseudo mother during my high school years who showed me nothing but kindness and care whenever I was ever over there or even hundreds of miles away checking in with me a couple times while I was away at college.

    But now the cycle is about to repeat. I inform friends and girlfriend that a family member from my youth has passed away and I will be inundated with questions of:

    “are you alright?” “Its okay to cry, we understand.” or “that sucks, let me know if I can help in anyway, do you need a moment to yourself?”

    Again I appreciate this, but how do you tell people who cry so easily, that crying to you just isn’t something that happens all that often, and in some way that they understand this without judging you or even worrying more about you.

    I am not a person who was raised in the environment where crying was deemed “unmanly” or not the thing “boys” do. I watched my own father and father figures of mine cry on several occasions and never thought any less of them for it. I cried a fair amount as a child as well.

    But why cant a person just be okay when they say they are.

    Maybe there was just a massive shift in the other direction from when I was younger. Like because so many kids grew up in the households where men do not cry and boys don’t cry, we are now on the other side of swinging pendulum where everyone HAS to cry. Can we not take a moment and look at this as the spectrum that it is? If there is someone who can look at a flower in bloom in spring and shed sobbing tears because of its beauty, and that is perfectly fine thing to do, then someone who needs a lot to cry is also an acceptable way of emotional status?

    Again I am not trying to say I am hurt about anything above. I guess I just miss being a person who could be melancholy, or not worry that the movie didn’t make me shed tears when everyone else is sobbing, without having to explain myself to others again or thought of a someone who was not in tune with their emotions. That maybe someone would look at me and think, “that’s a fine thing to be.”

    And maybe eliminating the constant stress on some induvial to always be the “most focused” “most happy” “most in tune with societies emotions” may create a positive change in our communities. The ability to look at someone and eliminate the phrase “resting bitch face” and rather say “that is Sam”.

    And maybe at the very least we wouldn’t have a Dr sit across from a teenager and tell them their brain is wrong.

    *Big Fish still gets me teary eyed at the end