The Community Room is a sociologists dream for field work. Elena and I were sitting in the more than straight, straight chairs. They are definitely not designed to encourage one to stay in them too long. As we got deep into our conversation, Babs stormed in turning on the ceiling lights. Elena turned toward me with a scowl. She doesn't much like Babs.
Babs was talking before she cleared the door jam. She always begins with a cheery, "hello all." Just as Babs began to devour the Boston Globe, Nanette charges in with teen grandchildren and boxes of Girl Scout cookies. Neither Elena and I were speechless.
"Sorry, I couldn't hear what you said," I told Elena.
"We'll be out of here in a minute," Nanette replied.
I sat silently.
Mark came in. As usual he listened. It felt more than rude. He is the sweetest of men.
After a struggling conversation, Babs bid everyone goodbye. Mark sat for thirty minutes with his head down. I am sure he heard our every word. Not too soon, he left. Our conversation relaxed and we got into some girl talk. It was nice to have our privacy again.
This is supposed to be a generation of correctness, politeness.
What happened?
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