What’s
behind door number three?
It
could be a whammy. Might be ten thousand dollars. Maybe it’s some
kind of inside joke. Whatever it is, sometimes we all need to
proceed with caution based on the idea of the unknown.
A
few days ago, I was out with a group of friends. Drinks on the
table, good conversation, casual jokes being tossed around. During
one rapid fire exchange of barbs, I made a comment about a certain
brand of cars, only to learn that someone at the table loved that
brand of cars, owned one, and lost it in a significant but fortunately
not severe accident.
Perfectly
innocent comment. Nothing in the conversation ground to a halt
as a result. Car person even made a small joke in response. But
I absolutely wouldn’t have made the remark had I known about the
accident, and I won’t be kidding around about that car brand in
the future (at least not around him).
But
that’s kind of the thing, right? I didn’t know.
A
few years ago, I was out with one of my nieces and my nephew.
We were kidding around during a trip, and try as he might the
nephew simply could not keep himself out of the spotlight. Joke
after joke after joke aimed at him in response.
At
one point I asked him if he was ok. (He was.) I told him we were
picking on him because we loved him. (He loves us.) And, made
clear that we expected him to pick on us. (And he does.)
That
understood, I told him I was giving him a safe word. We were all
having fruity tropical frozen drinks at the time, so his word
became pineapple. I told him if we ever made him feel uncomfortable,
he should just say pineapple and we’d stop.
Everything
out in the open, everyone comfortable and feeling good, jokes
began again. Great trip.
Those
kids being around was part of a larger and longer run of family
events, which included some long-distance travels for some. That
meant gatherings and special celebrations.
A
few nights later we had returned to the main home base for everyone
and were attending a party together. I was talking to the same
niece a few feet away from the nephew. He was trapped in a conversation
by someone known for creating awkward situations that they make
impossible to extricate yourself from. The someone often discusses
a subject the person finds fascinating, person believes everyone
else also finds it fascinating, and person has no concept or awareness
of the reality that no one else cares on any level about the subject.
Neice
and I looked toward the nephew. Made eye contact.
With
an air of desperation and a sense of urgency, he whispered toward
us. “Pineapple.” Tears seemed to be welling up in his eyes. He
repeated, each time the pitch of his voice rising. “Pineapple.
Pine. Apple. Pineapple!”
Person
he was talking to didn’t even notice his pleas to us for help.
Kept talking. Talking about the magical subject. Nephew was stuck
for another twenty minutes. Neice and I thought it was a great
party.
Was
over at a friend’s house yesterday. She was cooking in the kitchen,
chopping up onions beyond any definition of minced. She was mincing
the mincing of her minced onions. Not really an exaggeration to
say she had liquified the onion. Turns out her sister was coming
over for dinner. Said sister likes to say she hates onions, and
is notorious for picking them out. Also turns out that what the
sister doesn’t know, well, she doesn’t need to know.
We
all have secrets. Some of them are impossibly important. Others
are fun, a bit carefree, and yet shared only with a select few.
Codewords and phrases, experiences and histories, nods and appreciation.
It’s
usually all good, until you select door number three or ask for
a pineapple.
(What’s
that? The title? Well, I guess you’ll just have to wonder if there’s
some super-secret-squirrel meaning behind it. What you do know,
well, you know.)