When conversation slips past pleasantries, you’re getting to the good stuff.
Sure, meeting a new person entails covering some mandatory topics: Where are you from? Where do you live now? Do you enjoy murdering other city goers for sport? And clearly in this region, what do you do for work?
But moving past the basics is sort of the first test of any new relationship, whether platonic or romantic. Do you care enough to delve deeper? Is there any interest in discovering someone else’s unique stories and odd ticks?
I came to this realization, first, when I was working with a new writer friend the other day, also of the female persuasion.
It was just the two of us with our laptops out, chit chatting while we also tried to squeeze in some actual writing. In that odd, first time hanging out with a new person, to me, there always seems to be a date-like uncertainty in the air, even if it’s far from a date. You are strangers trying to get past initial awkwardness, feeling each other out.
This woman, whose expertise lies in fashion, told me her backstory. I shared my story.
Really, I realized, it was at the point when we shared some of the quirkier stuff that it felt like a bond had been formed. The fashionista explained, for one, that she had a thing about July 4. My gut reaction was that I’d be hearing about patriotism and traditions around fireworks-viewing. American enthusiasm, that sort of thing. Not exactly though. For some reason she’s managed to get into hijinx after hijinx during several Independence Day occasions. One year, she accidentally injured her husband. As a result, my new friend keeps July 4 low-key so that she can hide from her holiday curse.
The detail was something I won’t soon forget. It made her memorable to me and it felt like something she’d revealed to a friend, or at least a forthcoming one.
Then the other day, on a date, the same premise held true. The conversation took several wacky turns over margaritas—and rather quickly into the night. Instead of too many stories about career tracks, he talked laptops; specifically, his Macbook is on the fritz. I mentioned recently purchasing a no-frills, yet reliable, Chromebook and suggested he look into getting one as a low-cost alternative.
“I’m not sure that I need one yet,” he said. “The only real problem is that the ‘Q’ button doesn’t work. But how often do you really need to type of Q words?”
Exactly how often then became a half-hour tangent:
What if you have to send a bunch of questions and point out that they’re questions?
What about a quest that you’d have to take?
Think of how many times you’d have to miss out on saying “Quid pro quo”
What if you wanted to leave your job in a hurry? You’d have to send a message declaring, “I quit!” That’s the most concise, best way to take the plunge. “I’m leaving” just doesn’t have the same strong ring to it.
Never has a nerdier rant riffing on a “What if” happened in the history of the world. But I wasn’t bored, and I got a better sense of his humor, attitude and vibe from that section of conversation than many other more standard chats I’ve ever been a part of.
Who knows what will happen with this guy. I enjoyed the quirky tangents, the off-kilter topics that, at least, made our time together memorable.
All I know is that when the conversation has been stilted, boring and stayed in that familiar area on a date it’s never led anywhere.
Quirky, beyond being a prized “Q” word, just might be the key.
–Dena