THE WAR OF THE WORDS

It’s no secret that men and women communicate differently. That fact, however, was dramatically illustrated for me recently.

I was standing in line waiting to get on a flight from St. Louis to Louisville when two women who were standing behind me struck up a conversation. From their exchange it was apparent that they were complete strangers. The conversation began when one of the women remarked about how much she liked the other woman’s purse. The purse owner remarked that she had actually made her purse and had a business in which she made purses for other women. This ignited an extremely animated discussion that continued as they proceeded down the jet way behind me.

I’ve taken this particular flight at least 50 times. From take off to touch down the flight only takes 36 minutes. I was planning on judiciously using this time by taking a 36 minute nap. This was not to be, because Chatty Cathy and her friend Verbal Vera sat down directly behind me. I tried my best to tune out their conversation, but I couldn’t do it. It was like witnessing an accident that you really don’t want to look at, but can’t take your eyes off of. In the space of that brief 36 minutes the following topics were covered:

• The purse maker gave a detailed accounting of her family history and every event in her life leading up to her decision to make purses for a living.
• The purse admirer was looking for a purse to take on her upcoming honeymoon which led to a detailed history of her courtship with her fiancé, the manner in which he proposed, all current wedding plans, and her uneasy relationship with her mother-in-law to be.
• The purse maker was able to commiserate because she was in her second marriage and she felt her first marriage had failed partially because she was unable to get along with her mother-in-law.
• The purse admirer admitted that this would actually be her second marriage as well which led to a detailed accounting of all the reasons her first marriage failed.
• Etc, Etc, Etc, ad nauseum.

The sheer number of words they managed to speak in this brief period of time was unfathomable. I can only describe it as verbal diarrhea. I sat there with my eyes closed trying to pretend to be oblivious to their conversation, but I was actually thinking “how can these two women, who have never met each other, be willing to share this level of intimate details about their lives?” I have male friends that I’ve known for decades to whom I would not divulge what my favorite color is because, frankly, that kind of information is simply a little too personal.

I did manage to have a meaningful exchange with another male passenger. The gentlemen directly across the aisle from me was also trying to sleep but was unable to do so because of the verbal onslaught going on behind me. He glanced over at me at one point and we grunted at each other. I like to think that our grunts conveyed as much meaningful information as the entirety of their conversation.

In reality I truly believe that men would be well served if we attempted to be more verbal with the women in our lives, and if we learned to listen beyond the words to the emotion and intent behind them. I’m afraid, however, that I don’t have any magic formula for facilitating this.

If you have any ideas, grunt at me and let me know.