Confessions of a Social Misfit - part 1
What do a Teenage Drama Queen, a Dangerous Mind, a Window Cleaner, devout Roman Catholics and now I, have in common?
Well, the answer, my friend, is not blowing in the wind, but is staring at you in the face in the title of this post. These 'Confessions of A Social Misfit' series, when not entirely autobiographical (and not entirely un-autobiographical either), represents my analysis of the Murphy's laws as applicable to social situations, where even if something can't go wrong, it will.
Considering the million gaffes that I have committed, or I have witnessed, or I have imagined someone (mostly myself) commit, this is possibly a thriving blog on its own, though considering how scant the content on this current blog has been, it makes a lot of sense for me, as someone who is making vain attempts at maintaining this blog, to see how I can go about scrounging content in the best possible manner.
So, in the first installment, let me delve on the possible messy situations that you can find yourself in when you go to a restaurant/pub/hotel/coffee shop with friends. By friends, I don't mean the ones that you are really close to, the ones you'd trust your life with, but the ones that would possibly come under the tier 2 or tier 3 bracket of pals that you'd have.
Note: Tier 2 / Tier 3 are the ones that display strong possibility of being really close friends, but due to circumstances haven't really graduated to that level just yet. The reasons for that usually are that they haven't been friends for an extended duration like those in Tier 1 or that the frequency of being able to meet them in order for them to graduate to the next level is low, or the possibility that the don't give out Tier 1 vibes (or worse, they don't want me in their Tier 1, for you have to be on the same tier for them as they are for you).
The general conversations could range across various topics, but the bone of contention would come through when the time comes to settle the bill. Assuming that you are someone who flits from group to group, without constantly being in one (social ineptitude being the prime reason for not qualifying), you would be the odd one out, the one who has to conform to the group's rules and regulations.
If the group has met up for an occasion such as a treat, then the odds of being invited are low, because they wouldn't want to pay for you. So lets assume that you actually have to pay for what you ate. The group dynamics would dictate how you would have to resort to shelling out money when the bill arrived.
If it is an elite place, separate cheques can be asked for. But then again, this wouldn't be the kind of place I would visit, considering my social standing. Separate cheques would be the safest way out, but I guess that rarely would happen.
Hence, there are two possible ways in which the group would split the cheque - one would be where the total sum that each person pays would be divided by the number of people in the group, to sort of even things out. It is a good arrangement if everyone's appetites and food/drink tastes are on par, but poses considerable dilemma if you're either a teetotaler or a vegetarian, in which case its not a good idea to go with a group that has a majority that comprises of neither category. This stems from the assumption that you are in a place where booze and non-vegeratian food are relatively more expensive.
The other way in which the group would split the cheque, is to make each person pay according to what has been consumed by them. Its a process that is tedious and cumbersome, but the trade-off associated here is the satisfaction derived out of not having made others pay more/less than their due and the second situation is better to be at, rather than the first.
But a real jackass would try and enforce situation 2 in a group that is accustomed to situation 1, or vice versa, causing him to be the subject of blank stares or at the receiving end of nasty, but inaudible comments.
Hence, there is a requirement for people to exercise utmost caution while hanging out with tier 2 or tier 3 friends, lest the shit hits the fan.
Tier 1 friends are the kinds with whom such complications seldom arise, but in the event that they are not around to hang out with, hanging out alone is the best option, specially while visiting a food place.
A good book, coupled with an iPod (if music at the hotel/restaurant sucks) and some sumptuous food should just about hit the spot. Thats how my idle evenings end up being. I've had very limited Tier 2 and Tier 3 experiences, and I am counting my blessings for that.
Who needs company?
Some men are islands sometimes.
Well, the answer, my friend, is not blowing in the wind, but is staring at you in the face in the title of this post. These 'Confessions of A Social Misfit' series, when not entirely autobiographical (and not entirely un-autobiographical either), represents my analysis of the Murphy's laws as applicable to social situations, where even if something can't go wrong, it will.
Considering the million gaffes that I have committed, or I have witnessed, or I have imagined someone (mostly myself) commit, this is possibly a thriving blog on its own, though considering how scant the content on this current blog has been, it makes a lot of sense for me, as someone who is making vain attempts at maintaining this blog, to see how I can go about scrounging content in the best possible manner.
So, in the first installment, let me delve on the possible messy situations that you can find yourself in when you go to a restaurant/pub/hotel/coffee shop with friends. By friends, I don't mean the ones that you are really close to, the ones you'd trust your life with, but the ones that would possibly come under the tier 2 or tier 3 bracket of pals that you'd have.
Note: Tier 2 / Tier 3 are the ones that display strong possibility of being really close friends, but due to circumstances haven't really graduated to that level just yet. The reasons for that usually are that they haven't been friends for an extended duration like those in Tier 1 or that the frequency of being able to meet them in order for them to graduate to the next level is low, or the possibility that the don't give out Tier 1 vibes (or worse, they don't want me in their Tier 1, for you have to be on the same tier for them as they are for you).
The general conversations could range across various topics, but the bone of contention would come through when the time comes to settle the bill. Assuming that you are someone who flits from group to group, without constantly being in one (social ineptitude being the prime reason for not qualifying), you would be the odd one out, the one who has to conform to the group's rules and regulations.
If the group has met up for an occasion such as a treat, then the odds of being invited are low, because they wouldn't want to pay for you. So lets assume that you actually have to pay for what you ate. The group dynamics would dictate how you would have to resort to shelling out money when the bill arrived.
If it is an elite place, separate cheques can be asked for. But then again, this wouldn't be the kind of place I would visit, considering my social standing. Separate cheques would be the safest way out, but I guess that rarely would happen.
Hence, there are two possible ways in which the group would split the cheque - one would be where the total sum that each person pays would be divided by the number of people in the group, to sort of even things out. It is a good arrangement if everyone's appetites and food/drink tastes are on par, but poses considerable dilemma if you're either a teetotaler or a vegetarian, in which case its not a good idea to go with a group that has a majority that comprises of neither category. This stems from the assumption that you are in a place where booze and non-vegeratian food are relatively more expensive.
The other way in which the group would split the cheque, is to make each person pay according to what has been consumed by them. Its a process that is tedious and cumbersome, but the trade-off associated here is the satisfaction derived out of not having made others pay more/less than their due and the second situation is better to be at, rather than the first.
But a real jackass would try and enforce situation 2 in a group that is accustomed to situation 1, or vice versa, causing him to be the subject of blank stares or at the receiving end of nasty, but inaudible comments.
Hence, there is a requirement for people to exercise utmost caution while hanging out with tier 2 or tier 3 friends, lest the shit hits the fan.
Tier 1 friends are the kinds with whom such complications seldom arise, but in the event that they are not around to hang out with, hanging out alone is the best option, specially while visiting a food place.
A good book, coupled with an iPod (if music at the hotel/restaurant sucks) and some sumptuous food should just about hit the spot. Thats how my idle evenings end up being. I've had very limited Tier 2 and Tier 3 experiences, and I am counting my blessings for that.
Who needs company?
Some men are islands sometimes.
posted by Hari Shenoy @ 4:30 AM
6 Comments:
"..lest the shit hits the fan"
yet another hari-invented innovative idiom
no no thats not a hari-invented idiom..the whole thing goes something like this "when shit hits the fan, some guys stay and some guys run"
@ Kamath - false
@ Tall guy - true
interesting observations :)
especially the level of details in protocols of splitting the money.
Some people doing extra bit to bell the CAT play accounting-accounting to prepare for the quant
@thequark - idle mind, brother. Math problems are ennui beaters.
accounting-accounting I don't play. But then again, whatever you say.
I am also having a problem making Tier 1 friends in a place majorly populated(or should I say vegetatively propagated) by mongoloids. But the remaining compatriots here are not worth being Tier 1 friends either. So I guess you have no choice. Just shell out some bucks or sit alone and jerk off watching porn. Dont have too many choices, do I ?
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