Open Books

Did you know something like 85% of people think they’re good at reading people? You’re good at reading people. I do okay, I know people who are better.

The problem is we might be wrong.

True story: Once upon a time while I was at summer camp, I thought a cute boy was waving at me. I smiled and waved back. He and his friends (including the one standing three feet to my left) all had a good laugh. I got my first pair of glasses when I went home.

That wasn’t the first time I misread someone, nor was it the worst. I still trust my instincts though, just like you do.

Call it whatever you want. Empathy, vibes, gut feelings – it all amounts to a sense of knowing what the other person is thinking. We pooh-pooh ESP, but we believe we know how someone is reacting to us. We make no sense sometimes.

If we get angry when we’re wrong, we get angrier when someone reads us wrong. See previous example.

Public humiliation aside, my real bugaboo is when people don’t think I mean what I say.

I avoid subtext, it’s too much work and your Auntie is lazy. Most of you know that. Every once in a while, someone – even someone who knows me well -- will be surprised that I meant what I said literally.

@rmangaha was here today. We ate leftovers and he laid hands on my sick computer and healed it, praise his techie heart.

But while he sat at my desk, he was surprised by how well he could hear my Loud Neighbors’ conversation. He’s seen the tweets and read the posts, but he was still surprised that every word was as audible as if they were in the room with us.

He’s known me since he was a teenager. Granted that wasn’t all that long ago by my reckoning, but he should have read me better.

Pop quiz: You, who only know me through this blog, test your skills. Do you think I said “I told you so” to the person who single-handedly saved me from having to get a whole new computer?

Well, do you?

Ha. I only implied it. So you were 85% right.