I was
sipping my coffee in the break room this morning, trying to have a sensible
conversation with Abigail Greene, this hippy type who listens to Charlie
Parker and writes poetry when she’s supposed to be debugging software. She
always has earphone wires dangling from her head, and when you want to ask her
a question you’re better off emailing her than trying to get her attention in
real time. She’s annoying, I’ll tell you. Anyway, this morning she did me the
favor of removing the earphones so she could listen to what I was saying over
coffee. But when I think about what she said to me I’m a little offended
because, well, I don’t think I’m “controlling”. Yes, that’s what she told me. I
mean right out of the blue she interrupted me and said: “You know, Armond,
you’re very controlling.” Just like that. I can tell you it knocked me back a
couple of steps. I mean maybe I did go on longer than I should have about pet
ownership saving the world, but I don‘t think I was being controlling, for God’s
sake. Maybe I talked over her once or twice when she tried to butt in, but I
certainly wasn’t dictatorial or anything.
Although
now that I’ve has a chance to sit back and think about it, maybe I do tend to
be slightly overbearing—no, that’s too strong—maybe I tend to be a little
overly enthusiastic sometimes when I’m trying to make a point. I mean when I think I’m right about
something, really right, right in a moral or ethical sense (or both), where
there really should be no question, no argument to the contrary, well then
sometimes I may be a little more forceful—well, not forceful—that’s a slight
overstatement. What I mean to say is that you have to have an opinion, right?
And you have to support your opinion, right? And sometimes you have to defend
your opinion, especially when someone challenges it or makes light of it or
implies that you’re wrong. That’s what Abigail was doing, now that I think
about it. Of course she really didn’t say much, maybe four or five words the
whole time we were talking, but I definitely got the vibe that she disagreed
with me. You can feel it when someone disagrees with you; you can read it in
their body language and their facial distortions, the way their eyes shift and
their upper lip quivers and that tell-tale twitch of the nostril. I sensed all
that going on with Abigail while I was holding forth—no not “holding
forth”—that’s too strong; I was simply making my point to her in no uncertain
terms—no, that’s not true either; it sounds like I was refusing to consider both
sides of the argument (not that we were arguing), which I was perfectly willing
to do and am always perfectly willing to do—except of course when I know for sure that
there’s no possibility that my viewpoint is wrong. Well, then I’ll go to the
wall to defend myself—no, “go to the wall” is too extreme for what I’m trying
to say. You see, I’m very committed to my ideas, which doesn’t mean I wouldn’t
change my mind if someone came up with a good argument against them. It doesn’t
mean I wouldn’t reevaluate and reconsider and even go the extra mile to see the
other person’s point of view. It’s true. I’m a fair and objective person.
So, now,
thinking about myself in that light—as someone willing to compromise when
presented with incontrovertible proof that his ideas are wrong--I have to wonder
where the beejesus Abigail was coming from this morning when she said I was
“controlling”.
