Lately I’ve been on a giving kick. Being an intensely self-involved introvert lends itself to miserly behavior, and I realize that I’ve been too blessed in my life to not give some of that energy back to the world. Because I’m a firm believer in changing through baby steps, I’ve started with the easiest gift I can give: kind words.
I had this in mind on a particular afternoon at the 9-5. It was another quiet day in the non-profit world, when I was interrupted from my daily Joan Holloway impersonation by a UPS delivery man. Being the office manager and receptionist for my office, I’ve built up a rapport with the delivery men who frequent the building. I’m polite. I smile, you know, the standard things one is expected to do when they’re the face of the office. It was a cold day, as most December days in Cleveland can be, and the UPS man was dressed for the weather. Brown Columbia work boots and the standard brown UPS uniform, complete with a heavy coat and matching hat. It was the hat that caught my attention; one of those winter caps with the fur flaps on the side to protect ears from the biting Lake Erie wind. What made the hat cool to me, was that it had the UPS emblem on the front. How dope of UPS to be considerate of the Cleveland winter struggles and offer the hats as part of their uniforms, I thought. Here was a prime opportunity to give a kind word. “I like your hat,” I said, as I scratched a makeshift signature on the digital screen in front of me. The UPS man paused for a bit, his face flushing beet red before he offered a toothy grin and said “Thanks!”
As soon as he was on the other side of our door, my co-workers exploded into laughter. Apparently, it appeared that I’d put the moves on our delivery man by complimenting his hat. I was confused. “What? All I said was that I liked his hat.”
“Did you see the way he blushed? You probably made that man’s day.”
I shrugged and went on about my day, later sharing the interaction with my buddies on Twitter. The replies I got were of this general theme: If you give a man a compliment, you’re inviting him to your lady parts.
Wait. What?! Were they serious?
Yes. According to the peanut gallery, men don’t often receive compliments from women; so on the rare occasion that they do, they believe the compliment is accompanied by something more: at the very least, interest.
What in Christ’s name…
Look, fellas. I’m a polite, confident woman. This means that I’m prone to look men in the eyes when I speak to them. I smile at people when I greet them, because it’s the courteous thing to do. And if you are wearing something that I find interesting, or are rocking a fragrance that my nose appreciates, I’m going to verbalize that thought. Because you know, I hear your cries about perpetually frowning women and I don’t want to be counted among them. You can’t complain about sistas always looking angry when a simple gesture of kindness, such as a compliment, registers in your mind as a coochie coupon.
Am I going to start walking around with the mean mug now that I have this information? No. You overzealous fellas won’t mess with my Qi by making me adopt a less than pleasant demeanor. I owe the Universe too many favors to lessen my verbal charity for fear of misinterpretation. So future reference, if I say I like your hat…
I really do mean that I just like your hat.
