Yesterday during my lunch break I phoned my friend Ted. Our conversation went something akin to the following:
TIM: Hi Ted, It’s Tim Warner. How’s it going?
TED: <pauses>Oh yeah…Hey, Tim, what’s up?
TIM: Am I calling at a bad time? Perhaps we could reschedule this call for later.
TED: <pauses> Ah…no…this is fine. So what’s going on?
TIM: Well, I have some stuff on my mind…<goes into some detail>…
TED: <pauses><keyboard clicking in background> Yeah, right.
TIM: <falteringly>And she said that<more detail>
TED: <keyboard clicking, rattling in background>
TIM: I’ll tell you what, Ted. You sound pretty distracted. Let me call you back, okay?
TED: <laughs>You can tell, huh?
TIM: Yes, sir. I’ll call you later.
TED: Okay, cool. Take care.
How does it make you feel when you get the distinct impression that your conversational partner is giving you about…say…40 percent of his or her attention?
The anemic "Uh-huhs" and "I’m with yous" are no succor for the realization that the person to whom I am speaking maintains a priority on other, non-conversationally related matters.
Look—I understand that I am not the center of the known universe, I truly do. Here’s my suggestion to Ted and his ilk:
If you are too busy to give me your full attention, then freakin’ tell me! I won’t crumple like a poorly baked popover. Get honest with me and stop jerkin’ me around.
When you want to confide in me, ask me a question, or simply engage in simple dialog with me, the very least thing that I can do is to stop my typing, stop my munching—stop whatever it is that I am doing—turn to face you, and offer you my undivided attention.
As I just said, if I am for whatever reason unable to give you my full attention, then I will inform you of that fact and, it is hoped, we can reschedule our conversation for another, mutually convenient time.
Make sense?
Today’s subject, the distracted anti-conversationalist, reminds me of a related peeve, the details of which I shall reserve for another blog post.
Friends, how do you feel about the "call-waiting face-off" (cf. Seinfeld)? Did you ever notice that some conversational partners appear to be constitutionally incapable of ignoring call waiting?
"Uh…Tim, can you hold on a minute? I have another call coming in."
<indeterminate pause>
"Are you there, Tim? I have to go…I have another call on the line."
Now I understand that call-waiting in some cases can serve an invaluable function (family emergencies, job- or project-related calls, etc.). Nevertheless, what kind of message does being declared the loser of a call-waiting face-off transmit to the other person?
Here, I will lead: This action confers the message that the other person calling in–yes, the individual who lodged his or her call to your conversational partner after you initiated the conversation—is somehow more important than you are.
I don’t know about you, but I never want my conversational partner to feel "less than."
What do you think?