Thu 17 May 2007
I am self-employed, and I typically receive checks from clients once a month. Because of this relative infrequency, and because I pay my taxes quarterly, rather than having them deducted from each paycheck, my checks are usually much larger than they would be if I were a regular salaried employee.
Because of the way my business is set up, I have to deposit each check personally in the bank. I normally do all possible routine tasks on-line, but I have come to enjoy the little ritual of walking down to the bank with each check.
Today there was a new teller, an older man. As he processed my deposit, he said, “That sure is a lot of money. I hope you have plans to do something with it, because I hate to think of it sitting around doing nothing.”
I felt uncomfortable having this stranger commenting on the size of my paycheck, while implying that I was not financially savvy enough to handle my money properly. I recognized this as a prelude to a sales pitch, but it still made me defensive. So I smiled and made some remark about paying the bills. Then I felt idiotic, because of course I plan what I do with my money very carefully, but I sounded like the kind of person who gets paid on Friday and is broke and hungover by Saturday.
Five minutes later, going over the conversation in my head, I was kicking myself. There was no need for me to respond to such an impertinent question at all. What was I defensive about? Why did I feel I owed him an explanation? And why do I feel the need to smile and be so damned ingratiating all the time? It’s not the first time something like this has happened, either. I’ve noticed this before: Someone makes a rude remark, and it’s as though I feel so embarrassed for him that I try to smile and joke around to make him feel better. As Goffman puts it, I felt like his remark threatened his face, and I tried to cover with politeness as a face-saving strategy.
I believe women are more likely to go around trying to save face for others than men are. In social situations, this can be a good thing. For example, in the two conversations I recounted in my last post, it was perfectly appropriate for me to try to smooth things over, to make both women feel less awkward about not recognizing me as Aitch’s mother. Face-saving strategies lubricate the motions of social intercourse, as it were. But professionally, this kind of behavior makes us look weak.
I am really going to try to work on this. There’s no need to be rude in a professional situation, but there are ways to respond to impertinence that are not exactly impolite but don’t work too hard to preserve the other person’s face. Goffman calls these “bald on record” strategies.
For example, the next time the teller says, “That sure is a lot of money. I hope you have plans to do something with it,” I could respond as follows:
1. “I sure do! Hookers, blow, and lottery tickets.”
2. “Why would you assume that I don’t?”
3. [Long silence] “Thank you for processing my check. Have a nice day.”
Why is that so hard?
May 17th, 2007 at 11:03 am
I have no idea, but I’m on blog record stating that rude people shake me up, and make me want to rush to fix the situation, too. Mostly because if I can fix their rudeness, maybe I’m not the sort of person who deserves that sort of behavior.
I need to grow a backbone, don’t I.
May 17th, 2007 at 3:58 pm
I vote for #1.
I also agree with Jody–I’m exactly the same way. I would think of #1 the next day, after stewing over the rudeness, but never actually say it.
May 18th, 2007 at 1:02 pm
The worst part of the job of bank teller, according to your mother, is the pressure the bank puts on them to “sell product” rather than on customer service. It seems to be the same no matter what business, store or shop one deals with these days. “Upgrade, Upsell” is the new corporate mantra. I think of it as oral spam. A non-commital, intense silent stare works best for me. Your number 1 choice is good too (maybe you might want to revise the “hookers” to the male equivalent..gigalos? - Dad
May 18th, 2007 at 8:12 pm
Commenting on the size of a deposit is along the same lines (in terms of rudeness levels) of commenting on the purchase of prescriptions (or OTC meds, for that matter). So inappropriate!
May 25th, 2007 at 9:20 am
Yeah, probably trying to sell you a CD. CDs aren’t the worst thing in the world under the right circumstances, so I’m not specifically offended when they try to sell me on one, but I have morphed into a bit of a broken record.
My standard response is “I have a plan, thanks,” but you could always say “I’m having labioplasty next Tuesday because I swear to God, my flippyflaps are hanging DOWN TO MY KNEES, thanks for asking.”
May 28th, 2007 at 2:45 pm
I see why that got your goat, but don’t be hard on yourself for not coming up with an immediate reply that you were satisfied with. Likely you were raised to be polite and respectful to your elders (and others in general) by a culture that values a demur woman.
Good for you for thinking up such great replies, and next time you’ll be ready.
Cheers!
July 5th, 2007 at 11:14 am
[…] Since I quoted Erving Goffman’s theory of politeness in an earlier post, I’ve been re-reading Interaction Ritual: Essays on Face-to-Face Behavior. His description of an everyday conversation, with all participants going to great lengths to hide what they really think and feel, and preserve their own and others’ socially-acceptable “lines,” is exhausting. It makes me wonder how we have the strength to get through the day. I suppose some of us are better at this than others; in fact, when I was teaching, I once counted up the conversations with different people I had on a daily basis, and I determined that it was the 100+ quotidian social interactions that were the untenable part of my job. (Total social interactions as a work-at-home consultant = as few as one, which involves me asking Husband, “Where do you want to have lunch today?”) […]