Proud to be an American

(Note, the supposedly fictitious events described herein may or may not have taken place in August 2013.)

Diversity in relationships, like diversity in the workplace, is great. Variety of opinions, experiences, and perspectives enhance creativity and overall satisfaction, in my opinion. As usual, I’m sure I’ve read this somewhere so it’s not just my opinion, but also a well-researched and documented fact. Heterogeneous groups learn from each other and grow individually and as a team. There’s really no down side, except when someone forgets that there can be extreme variation in communications among English-speaking people, which can present challenges in any relationship either professional or personal. For instance, a pep talk does not mean the same thing to a Brit as it does to an American.

This too is a well-known fact (although I can’t prove it because Google is failing me). So I’ll talk us through a hypothetical situation. Say for instance, there’s an American girl up late conversing with her British boyfriend. Despite her very best efforts, the conversation goes off the rails, and she finds herself doing some defensive dialoging. She’s pretty sure he’s picked a fight for no reason, but she’s trying to patch it up so they can both get some sleep. It works, eventually. The conversation ends. He sleeps. She doesn’t. She’s too upset that he picked a fight for no reason. When the sun finally trickles through her gauzy curtains (despite her fear that it would never rise again, trapping her in the torment of the previous night’s conversation, stuck on repeat in her head), she decides that she’s angry. Not just angry, she’s livid.

He checks in with his usual, “Good morning,” greeting a little later than usual. She’s happy for the extra time to prepare her reply. As soon as he says, “Hello,” she pulls out a steady barrage from the drawer marked, “What the hell is wrong with you?” She reaches for a curve ball from the, “Don’t you know I have a big day today,” shelf. And clinches it with a bit from the cupboard labeled, “I’m not speaking to you right now.”

Before you accuse her of overreacting, let’s review the Relationship Rules of Engagement. Rule 47B Statute C Paragraph 3 clearly states that if a man picks a fight with a woman past 9:00 pm on a school night (note a “fight” is defined as any argument, debate, or disagreement that occurs for any reason between any man and any woman in any small r or large R “relationship” regardless of who is right or who is wrong) he should expect to receive the Silent Treatment from said woman for a span of time equivalent to the length of the aforementioned dispute.

He fumbles an, “Okay, I will talk to you later,” and silence ensues.

When the count runs down on the penalty box timer, she checks in with a work-related issue signaling that she will speak to him but he’s still in the dog house. At this point, the conversation could take several turns. Let’s say, he’s well-intentioned and not a complete idiot. He might reach into his bag of tricks and attempt The Pep Talk. The classic post-row Pep Talk is a dazzling move. It opens with the Pep Talker in a position of power. He is the first of the two combatants to say something nice, and therefore he is the more generous of the two. He attempts to placate the Pep Talkee, washing away any bad aftertaste from the quarrel. And, if she is won over, the contention dissipates in a brilliant rhetorical twist wherein he gets away without admitting he was wrong for picking the fight-for-nothing in the first place.

So back to our hypothetical scenario: it might go something like this.

Him: You know I think you’re great, right? (10:34 am)

At this point, if she’s not a complete idiot, she likely will pause for a deep breath, pondering an appropriate response. She will think to herself, Great? You think I’m great? You think pizza is great. Another pause before replying, realizing that’s not the right tack. If she goes with the pizza thing, he might confess that, Oh my god, he loves pizza. Then she will have to punch him in the face, which she can’t do because he’s six time zones away, and they are having this conversation over instant messenger goddammit. One more deep breath and then…

Her: You think I’m “great”? Don’t you think last night’s conversation warrants a response a little less British? (10: 41 am)

And now we’re at the crux of the issue. If you’ve ever been an American at the receiving end of a British pep talk, you’ll know what I mean when I say, it’s the most unsatisfying attempt at encouragement devised by man. The British hone their un-enthusiasm like they are training for the Olympics. I was shocked to discover (when conducting very little research for this article) that the Brits do in fact have a cheerleading association; and it was founded in 1984. The commentary must be the most dispiriting play-by-play ever encountered. When the team performs very well, they are told they are “adequate.” Trophies are handed over with a pat on the back and a dry, “well done.”

In contrast to the British pep talk we have the American Pep Talk. America is the home of the Pep Talk. We invented Pep. It’s in the water. We are a nation of cheerleaders. Even those of us who may have suffered the self-loathing of an angst-ridden adolescence, the kind of teen years that triggers the involuntary upturn of a nose at the mention of the word “cheerleader” and the images it evokes. I mean the kind of high school dreariness that makes a girl say, “Vampires are cool outsiders who love girls who hate cheerleaders” (The Simpsons, Season 21, Episode 15). Even an American like that hypothetical person knows how to give a pep talk, i.e., a proper Pep Talk.

When faced with a British pep talk, this hypothetical American girl will change the subject rather than being baited into a conversational cul-de-sac (yes, a cul-de-sac, you know because the only options are circling the unsatisfying loop of the pep talk or heading back out onto the street that led you there, i.e., the wrong-road fight that started it all).

She might say something like, I spoke to the clients for you, or I checked on the cats. If she were smart, that’s what she would do. Because then his only reply is…

Him: Thank you. (2:52 pm)

If she’s really, really smart, she will go to a meeting for hmm…about two or two-and-a-half hours, triggering what he believes is another long Silent Treatment. Although she knows the rules governing the Silent Treatment (for a review of the rules, I recommend Coupling Season 1 Episode 4, “The Inferno”), I mean, even if our hypothetical woman knows the rules of the Silent Treatment, she may yet be surprised by what happens next.

Him: I’m hopelessly in love with you. (4:49 pm)

While the butterflies in her tummy do backflips, she might not resist the urge to nitpick. Why would she do this, you ask? Obviously it’s a misguided attempt to “win” the original argument and cover for the fact that he’s caught her unawares.

Her: hopefully. I’m hopefully in love with you. (5:10 pm)

And now he, wrong-footed by his vulnerable confession, will attempt to get the last word.

Him: you know there’s an implied double entendre in that statement. (5:14 pm)

She won’t take the bait though, because our hypothetical girl is sharp.

Her: I love you (5:18 pm)

Him: I love you (5:19 pm)

I’m just saying, things like this could happen. They might happen every day. Diversity in relationships is responsible for all kinds of zany goings-on. And many these madcap circumstances turn out to be positive. For instance, the woman in our hypothetical scenario now knows that when her British fella’ says that she’s great, it means so much more. Isn’t that great?