For many years our company held an annual volleyball tournament, and people from all our regional offices gathered for a weekend of ‘team building’. I had just joined the company when the last of these legendary events was taking place.
I had only made a handful of friends, but I was not without a boogie partner at the main reason most people came to the event, the disco.
The immoderation began in the theater, a massive stage at one end where the DJ stood, tipsy ladies being lifted up onto the stage.
The only reason I noticed Eren in particular is because she and I were both new. She seemed to have bonded with a petite blonde that all the guys were very fond of, and by association they were smitten with Eren too.
You can imagine how ridiculous I felt when I found myself wanting to know how she got to be so popular so quickly! And when I realized I was wondering what was wrong with me, well, I knew one day I would blog about this.
Still, I couldn’t keep myself from analyzing the scene. Their dance floor etiquette was snobbish, and that wasn’t just my junior high insecurities running wild. I assumed this was a club I would never be invited to join.
As it turns out, my desk was near the Tory and Eren fan club. And oddly enough, they seemed all-right.
Not only are all men are worth befriending, (not all women - see previous post
) but they are also easy to win over. I just placed a candy bowl on my desk.
Eren would come down and visit on occasion, but there was never a reason for us to meet until, one day, she wanted to get a big group together for a concert. A band I love, and all of a sudden we’re friends.
The band is just one of a thousand things we have in common. It’s so funny to think about the first impression I had of Eren now.
She is not a snob.
And yes, sometimes I am still a fragile junior higher, desperate to be remembered when someone is thinking of everyone that matters.
Eren and I have a new friend who is quite high maintenance. Leah sits beside me, and when Eren comes by, we can make a bit of a scene.
Last Friday we decided to go out for Pad Thai, and I was insistent we go to yoga first, as we always do on a Friday, and then have lunch afterwards. Eren was insistent we skip yoga.
Later on came the epiphany.
If I had overheard our conversation about Pad Thai and yoga, I would have been desperate to be invited or even noticed. I would have thought that we were snobs.
It was very self-centered to have such an exchange in public, not knowing who might still be bearing those junior high emotions around us.
I confess, I am officially a snob.
And now I understand.
Snob is not a verb. Snob is a label.
I can’t snob or snobberize or snobble you. The best I can do is ‘be a snob,’ but that’s a label.
When someone is labeled a snob, I would argue that has little to do with the intentions of that person, and more to do with the insecurities of others.
You can’t invite everyone to lunch all the time. That is irrational. The only thing a ‘snob’ might be guilty of is not being aware of the sensitive people around them. Self-absorption is their sin, but hey, aren’t we all self-absorbed? So we’re all snobs.
After all these years, I can finally join the crowd!