Deal Or No Deal
The neon sign in the window caught my attention…
“Powerball jackpot: 346 million”
Sure, why not. I walked into the 7-Eleven with visions of gold coins raining from the sky. Imaging Porsches and palaces. As I strolled through the oh-so-familiar scent of convenience store hot dogs, I began daydreaming about life in Hawaii. How much does a yacht cost, anyway? Maybe I’ll get a fleet of them.
There was just one guy in line. A lone person standing between me and my jackpot. He was an old, skinny bald man with a day’s worth of gray stubble. Regular guy. Soft spoken…maybe a bit sad. Just buying a pack of Hostess donuts. He inserted his debit card into the machine and the annoyed clerk shook his head…
“No money.”
The surprised old man asked in a whisper:
“Declined?”
The clerk announced:
“Zeeeeeee-ro”
(Along with the extra E’s, he also made the shape of a zero with his right hand)
The old man gently took his card, looked down at the floor, and walked away.
The clerk continued on. With a mocking tone, he exclaimed:
“No money, no honey!”
The old man flinched. Clearly feeling defeated. And, I assume, humiliated.
He exited the 7-11 without looking back. Never shifting his gaze from the ground.
If I was in a more confrontational mood (as is often the case), I certainly would have had some words for the clerk. Maybe:
A) “Hey man, did you really need to laugh at the guy?”
Or more likely…
B) “Seriously, dude? What the fuck were you thinking?”
But I didn’t feel confrontational in that particular moment. More sad than angry, I guess. I just bought my 2 lotto tickets and mumbled, “Lemme get the donuts too.”
Editor’s Note:
By spending $1.79 on a stranger, I claimed my rightful place as greatest human in the world. I handed the sad, old man his donuts and soft jazz music started to play. All of his pain was erased by those sweet, powdery snacks. We laughed together and embraced as we watched a beautiful sunset from the roof of the store.
Is that how our magical encounter went?
Fuck, no.
In reality, I awkwardly handed him the pack of donuts. He smiled the only tiny smile he was capable of. No cinematic moment. No powerful words. And no gesture from me that changed his life. He whispered a quick thanks and climbed into an old Ford Explorer. It was full of clothes. He was clearly living in it.
Look, you guys know I write about interactions that make me feel something. But, occasionally, they also help me find a combination of words I’ve been digging for. A larger observation. So, here’s what I’ve been thinking about lately…
Collectively, we are starting to forget how hard this shit is.
(Life, I mean)
We certainly remember when it comes to ourselves. Or people we admire. But this life is hard for everyone. At different times and to different degrees. When did we start forgetting that in our conflicts?
At some point, we forgot how to disagree. No, not just about politics. This is a deeper issue now. We’re losing touch with how important it is to see the humanity in those who upset us.
At this rate, it’ll be hard for us to see anything BUT our differences soon. We have a shared handicap now – an inability to work out disagreements. Is conflict new? Hell no. We’re just getting worse at it. So much of our communication is in writing these days. And our handicap has grown with these advances. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. This issue is no longer limited to how we behave online. It has infiltrated our “real world” personal relationships too.
In conflicts with people we care about, I believe there are 3 major things we should all commit to. The list could be much longer. But these are the main things I see forgotten by normal, non-lunatic types. The common symptoms of our handicap. We should write these principles in stone as we navigate our strange new world. Because…if we can’t even do this basic shit? Oof.
1. Commit to not getting lost in the black hole of back-and-forth written arguments.
How many times do we need to experience it? Written arguments have a 0% success rate.
Still can’t help yourself? Well, here’s a spoiler alert:
A written argument will never go well.
I get it. Having a tough conversation in person or on the phone is challenging. Feels harder. Sometimes scarier. But you have to find the words. And the balls. You need to keep it out of print. That basic level of discipline is so important. Not allowing yourself to go down the black hole of written arguments. At least not with someone you care about. At this point, we should know better. We understand how difficult it is to read tone. We understand that intense words seem way colder in print. We know how common misinterpretations are.
Serious conversations with people we care about? They do not belong in writing.
(We are decades into email and text messages. This should be obvious by now)
2. Don’t run from conflict.
Be open to disagreements, arguments, and difficult conversations. Again, just NOT in writing. The first step of success is showing up, right? So, show up for those moments.
Our technological growth has stunted our emotional growth. But it’s ok to feel things. When you’re in a conflict with someone you care about, that person isn’t a sociopath. Right? So, put on your grown-up pants. Allow room for emotions. Both in yourself and others.
If a friend or loved one is angry with you? Well, sometimes we deserve it. And sometimes we don’t. But did you think you’d get through life without being wrong? Without upsetting the people you care about? Show up for those conflicts. Hear people out. If you’re confused about a reaction or interpretation, ask questions. Take a chance. Is there any long-term health without allowing conversations to evolve?
Sometimes you’re wrong, sometimes you’re not. But the ultimate goal isn’t to assign blame. It should be to deepen understanding. When you cut off communication, there’s nowhere for a relationship to go. No way it can grow. Don’t delude yourself (or others). If you care about someone, you will have the tough conversations.
3. This shit is hard (life, I mean). So, try to remember that.
When someone you care about is upset, really try to understand their journey. Their experience in this life has been so different from yours. And no matter how close you are to them, the old quote remains true:
“Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”
You may think you know. But you will never know. Their battle is theirs alone.
We judge others by their actions and ourselves by our intentions. Because, well, we’re handicapped. That’s why it’s so easy to see others as wrong and so much easier to excuse ourselves.
We know our shit has been hard. What if we try to remember it more with others?
