Where the beejesus

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”.