If you’re sitting around butt naked in a hot-tub full of strangers, I think it’s fair to say that you’ve passed the politeness benchmark that dictates you ask your fellow soakers what they do professionally. Or, so I thought, until somebody turned to my boyfriend and I and asked what we did for work. I smiled at this bland woman and told her: Advertising, grateful once again to have a job that people almost universally recognize, and yet few truly understand. This limits the number of follow-up questions, usually to zero.
Living in LA can give you the impression that your work is who you are. Certainly this is a city where people come to “make it.” The cliches exist for a reason. And if you live here too long the little worm that tells you your value comes from your job title and pay grade will slowly creep into your ear, and make it’s home in your brain. Then one day you’ll be sitting around naked as the day you were born, on your second breakfast beer of the day, on the first day of the new year and the only thing you can think to ask this pool full of strangers is what is says on their W2. Jesus tap-dancing Christ, the creativity is staggering!
So here is a fun little challenge to try. Or don’t. I don’t know you. Let’s try asking people something of interest. I think it’s fair to say that the world is pretty messed up and scary right now, and walking around in a constant state of hostility or apathy towards your fellow man isn’t really helping the situation. Ask somebody what they’re reading right now, ask them what their current obsession is, ask them what was the best thing they ate this week, or heck, ask them what their latest dream was and if they maybe want to reenact it with you through interpretive dance. And if you ask them about their jobs at least have the common decency to ask them why they do what they do. You might get an interesting answer, for once.