TEN INTERESTING THINGS ABOUT HUMAN BEHAVIOR

Suzanne L. Davis, PhD

Third Edition

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Copyright 2014 Suzanne L. Davis

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For everyone who asked me what I was going to do with a degree in psychology.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

FOREWORD

CHAPTER 1: YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR ATTITUDES BY CHANGING YOUR BEHAVIOR.

CHAPTER 2: HUMAN BEINGS CAN BE INCONSISTENT. AND THAT’S PERFECTLY NORMAL.

CHAPTER 3: MOST PUBLIC DEBATES ABOUT THE CAUSES OF BEHAVIOR GET IT WRONG.

CHAPTER 4: READING THE SUBTLETIES OF BODY LANGUAGE TELLS YOU LITTLE, IF ANYTHING, ABOUT A PERSON.

CHAPTER 5: TABLOIDS AND REALITY SHOWS CAN MAKE US FEEL BETTER ABOUT OURSELVES.

CHAPTER 6: REWARDS AND PUNISHMENT WORK WONDERS, BUT YOU HAVE TO WORK IT.

CHAPTER 7: DON’T PUT YOUR AVERAGE JOE ON THE SPOT AND EXPECT A GOOD OUTCOME.

CHAPTER 8: WE USE A DOUBLE STANDARD WHEN WE JUDGE OURSELVES RELATIVE TO OTHERS.

CHAPTER 9: AIRLINE TRAVEL BRINGS OUT WEIRD, AND OFTEN DOWNRIGHT RUDE, BEHAVIOR.

CHAPTER 10: OUR BRAINS “TURN OFF” OUR BEHAVIOR WHEN WE DREAM.

AFTERWORD

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

REFERENCES

FREE SAMPLE CHAPTER OF ME OR WHATEVER

FOREWORD

Ten Interesting Things About Human Behavior is a short, lighthearted look at 10 things human beings do, why we do them, and their significance in our everyday lives. How do we resolve psychological conflict that occurs when our behavior violates our attitudes? Why are we so quick to blame others for their behavior while offering excuses for our own? What should we make of the talking heads on cable TV who argue about the cause of TV violence on children's behavior? Why are reality TV shows, some of which portray contestants as pathetic and dysfunctional, so popular?

Questions like these often provoke different answers from different people, each of whom attributes his or her answers to "common sense."

Research psychologists try to answer such questions as best we can. This short book is a look at the answers to 10 aspects of human behavior - answers derived from controlled behavioral research that is designed to test various theories (and competing theories) about behavior. Certainly, there is more to human behavior than the 10 things I chose for this book. And there are hundreds of primary sources and research reports that describe the research findings in more depth. They're out there if you'd like to read more. But for those who are new to the field of experimental psychology, 10 Things may pique your interest in learning more about the subject. And for those "armchair psychologists" out there who'd like a quick read, I think you'll like it, too.

Finally, I want to say a special thanks to those who offered constructive feedback on the first edition of 10 Things. There have been no substantive changes to 3rd Edition, but I have clarified a few points in response to reader suggestions.

CHAPTER 1: YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR ATTITUDES BY CHANGING YOUR BEHAVIOR.

When I was teaching and presented this principle for the first time, I got a lot of blank stares. Then came the questions...

“Isn’t it the other way around? Don’t my attitudes influence how I act?”

“That’s ridiculous! I have a strong value system and I always live by it!” “Are you saying that people are fickle and can’t control their feelings?”

No, it doesn’t mean we are fickle, nor does it mean attitudes never have an effect on behavior. Of course our attitudes affect our behavior. But it is also true that our behavior can have a direct effect on our attitudes under the right circumstances (Eagly & Chaiken, 1993).

Here’s how it works. I used to live in Chicago, where it was illegal to carry a concealed weapon. Nobody I knew owned a gun, and most thought that guns equaled crime and the fewer guns in the streets, the better. When I moved to Houston, I learned that most Texans had very different feelings toward guns, associating them with personal safety, defense of the home, and sport (e.g., target practice, hunting). The first time I visited my next-door neighbors, I was introduced to their gun collection, which was displayed in a quite impressive gun cabinet.

I was puzzled. I couldn’t reconcile the fact that my neighbors and many other good upstanding citizens owned and enjoyed guns. I was in conflict over what I came to Houston believing (guns equal crime) and how I was behaving (interacting with nice gun owners). Over time, I became more comfortable with the idea of citizens being able to carry guns. My attitudes about guns changed to be consistent with my behavior.

If you’ve ever been on a diet, you may see yourself in this next example, which I’m borrowing from Baron, Byrne, and Johnson (1998). Suppose you commit to a diet that outlaws desserts. You adopt the belief that sugar is the enemy and should be avoided. After a while, you slip and eat a pint of chocolate-chocolate-chip Haagen Dazs (the best flavor in my opinion). Now you have a problem. You feel guilty. Your behavior (the slip) is at odds with your beliefs (sugar is the enemy).

The psychological discomfort you feel (which is guilt in this example) is known to psychologists as cognitive dissonance, or a state of tension between what you did and what you believe (Aronson, 1969; Festinger, 1957; Harmon-Jones & Mills, 1999). How do you relieve your guilt? One way is to revise your attitude. “Oh well, I guess it’s ok to have an occasional treat even though I’m on a strict diet.” Your behavior caused a change in your attitude.

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

Well, now that you know the power of cognitive dissonance, why not capitalize on it? Perhaps you have heard these adages: “Do the right thing and your brain will follow.” Or “Act like the person you want to be and you just might become that person.” Both statements refer to the amazing thing our brains do when our behavior and attitudes don’t match. You can learn to like something (or at least become more comfortable with it) by “just doing it” and continuing to do it, even if you initially don’t want to.

If you are a parent, you may be able to change your children’s attitudes for the better. If you gently, um, force them to get into the habit of doing things they initially dislike (like taking out the garbage), there’s a good chance that their feelings about it will become more positive over time. They just might come to believe that garbage duty is “not so bad.

CHAPTER 2: HUMAN BEINGS CAN BE INCONSISTENT. AND THAT’S PERFECTLY NORMAL.

Scenario: Debate class. Debater 1 is arguing pro-life, and Debater 2 is arguing pro-choice.

Debater 1: “Abortion is murder.”

Debater 2: “No, murder means killing a person. A baby isn’t a person until birth.”

Debater 1: “No, life begins at conception, so abortion is murder.”

Debater 2: “Well, then you must be against all abortions.”

Debater 1: “No, I believe abortions should be allowed in cases of rape, or if the mother’s life is in danger.”

Debater 2: “But you said life begins at conception. That means by your own account that you support murder under certain conditions.”

Debater 1: “Absolutely not. I would never support murder.”

Debater 2: “You can’t have it both ways. Your beliefs are inconsistent.”

Debater 1: “Let’s look at your beliefs, then. Do you support capital punishment?”

Debater 2: “No. I think that kind of punishment is not for people to decide.”

Debater 1: “So let me get this straight. You think it is ok to murder a child in the womb, but it’s not ok to kill a serial killer.”

Debater 2: “That’s not what I said. I denounce murder in any form, but abortion is not murder.”

This is a good example of the frustration people feel when they encounter someone with beliefs that appear to be inconsistent. Each person concludes the other is illogical, and neither can understand why their own arguments aren’t persuasive.

The issue of inconsistency frequently comes up in my litigation consulting work, which involves assessing mock jurors’ perceptions of case evidence. During one such exercise, most of our mock jurors reported having a great deal of sympathy for a worker who was injured on the job. They also thought he should lose the case and the employer he was suing should win.

Those observing the exercise were a bit puzzled. Did the mock jurors misunderstand the case? Did they take the task seriously? Were they purposely giving inconsistent answers for some reason? Was there something wrong with the way we assessed their attitudes?

Well, I can vouch for the quality of our research methods, including our attitude assessment. And the mock jurors understood the case facts and had been conscientious and honest in their opinions.

So, what happened? To the extent the mock jurors had truly inconsistent beliefs, it would not be unusual. Inconsistency in attitudes (and between attitudes and behavior) is fairly common (The Blackwell Dictionary of Social Psychology, n.d.). Although we can think logically, it doesn’t mean we always do (Shermer, 1997). Sometimes we’re torn between two feelings or indecisive

about what we should do. It doesn’t automatically mean we’re dim, mentally lazy, or bad thinkers. It means we’re human.

Possibility #2 is that those observing the exercise misinterpreted what they saw. As it turned out, the mock jurors felt sympathy for the plaintiff while at the same time believing that his evidence was weak. In their minds, they weren’t being inconsistent at all. Sympathy was simply unrelated to their decision-making process.

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

Knowing that inconsistency (a) is a normal part of human nature, and (b) can lie in the eye of the beholder could have positive effects on your personal and professional relationships. Have you ever tried to convince someone that his or her beliefs are inconsistent and therefore wrong? It’s not exactly a high-success or relationship-building endeavor. Consider the possibility that your perception is wrong, and put your energy into learning why their beliefs aren’t inconsistent to them.

So, if anyone ever accuses you of being inconsistent, you now have a great comeback: “Human beings can be inconsistent, and anyway what seems inconsistent to one is perfectly consistent to another.”

CHAPTER 3: MOST PUBLIC DEBATES ABOUT THE CAUSES OF BEHAVIOR GET IT WRONG.

How many times have you seen the talking heads of cable news arguing about why people do the things they do?

Example: Why did two students at Columbine High School go on a shooting rampage and then turn the guns on themselves? One talking head says it was poor parenting, another says it was the availability of guns, another says it was mental illness, and still another says it was exposure to media violence. Even though there is no way to verify any of their theories, the talking heads keep on keeping on.

Another example: Does watching violence on TV make children act aggressively? One talking head says absolutely and we need to restrict violent programming. Another says no, lots of kids watch violence on TV and they’re not aggressive at all, and it’s all about poor parenting.

Debates like these usually end up with the talking heads arguing loudly, repeating their positions, and resolving nothing. They also fail to take into account one of the most important principles of behavior: Rarely is there one and only one cause of a behavior. Most behavior is caused by several factors interacting together simultaneously. (By the way, this is what makes psychological research so important. It allows us to tease apart the various causes and contributing factors of behavior.)

Back to the aggression example: Psychological research on social learning has addressed the question of whether observing aggression causes children to act aggressively. All other things being equal, a significant number of children imitate aggressive behavior they observe live or in video format. But they are significantly less likely to do so when they expect to be punished for it (Bandura, 1977; Bandura, Ross, & Ross, 1961).

So, when one talking head says children imitate aggression, there’s a kernel of truth there. And when another says there are a lot of children who don’t model aggression, there’s a kernel of truth there, too. But neither kernel by itself tells the whole story, which is that on average, children are at risk of modeling aggression to the extent they witness it. But there’s more than a good chance that they won’t do so if they expect a negative consequence.

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS? Next time you are wondering what caused someone’s actions, try not to get into an either/or trap (i.e., it was either this or that; also known as a false dilemma). If you do, you stand a very good chance of ignoring additional factors contributing to the behavior. And beware the kernel of truth. Consider the possibility that more than one factor interacted to cause the behavior. If you do, consider yourself a psychologist at heart and you’re well on the way to a deeper understanding of human behavior.

4: READING THE SUBTLETIES OF BODY LANGUAGE TELLS YOU LITTLE, IF ANYTHING, ABOUT A PERSON.

People love the idea of being able to read body language. On TV, body language experts wow viewers by “reading” public figures, politicians, and the occasional celebrity on trial. Police dramas depict profilers reading subtle nonverbal cues to determine whether a suspect is lying, where that week’s victim is buried, and so on.

Now, I love cop shows, especially those that feature psychology types. It’s great entertainment. But don’t assume the shows reflect reality. This may come as a surprise, but there are no classes in reading body language in psychology Ph.D. programs. Why? Because there is no empirical support for the idea that anyone, including psychologists, can accurately read unspoken feelings based on subtle body movements.

“But wait,” you say. “I can read my kids perfectly. I can tell just by looking at them what’s on their minds.” Well, of course you can, but you aren’t “reading” them; you know them. The true test of whether anyone can read subtle body language with accuracy is whether they can correctly read someone they don’t know – a stranger.

Researcher Paul Ekman has studied just that. In his ongoing research, he has tested people’s ability to detect deception in strangers (Ekman, 2009; see also Adelson, 2004). He and his colleagues have tested the ability of laypeople, therapists, police officers, nurses, and secret service agents to detect deception in strangers who either lied or told the truth about something. On average, the participants’ accuracy rate was approximately 53%, just slightly higher than chance. They may as well have tossed a coin. (Interesting tidbit: Secret service agents performed significantly better than the other participants but were still not that much better than chance.)

In my litigation consulting work, I’m sometimes asked if I can “read” how jurors are reacting to evidence, testimony, and other goings on in the courtroom. My answer is always the same: “No, nobody can do that with any level of accuracy. It would only be a guess.”

Here’s the thing: It is best not to assume that you know what is going on inside someone’s head – unless they tell you (and there are even problems with that method, since people can mislead with their words). You don’t have to be a mind reader to figure out what some people are thinking. It’s probably safe to say that someone with his arms folded, red-faced, and glaring at you is upset. Someone who constantly glances at her watch during your conversation is probably ready to bolt. I say probably because even “obvious” nonverbal behavior can be misinterpreted. I’ve seen it happen.

Example: During a mock jury exercise, one of our participants became visibly drowsy, closed his eyes, and slumped sideways in his chair. I asked him several times to wake up and pay attention, but within minutes he was again slumped in his chair, eyes closed. He missed out on most of the case evidence and his body language clearly expressed that he was either too exhausted to function, not interested, or both.

But later that day, during mock deliberations, he displayed an impressive command of the case facts, and he was persuasive in his deliberation group. This young man who looked disinterested, and either asleep or well on his way to being asleep, had been paying close attention. He defied expectations, demonstrating that even “obvious” body language can be misinterpreted.

And what about more subtle nonverbal behavior? The problem here is that it is simply too easy to read almost anything into it. In fact, multiple observers of the same nonverbal behavior often reach very different conclusions about what it all means. The bottom line? There is no empirical evidence that anyone can tell you how a person will behave based on interpretation of subtle nonverbal behavior (see Davis & Sobus, 1994, for an expanded discussion).

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

If you want to know what someone thinks, ask. This may seem like an obvious point, but if you do a little self-monitoring, you may find that you make more unverified inferences about people than you thought.

And be wary of anyone who claims to be expert at reading body language. If body language is sending an obvious message, you don’t need an “expert” to read it, and if it is so subtle that someone has to claim expertise to read it, you should question whether it is being over- interpreted. Be entertained by the “experts,” but realize that’s all it is - entertainment.

CHAPTER 5. TABLOIDS AND REALITY SHOWS CAN MAKE US FEEL BETTER ABOUT OURSELVES.

A friend and I were talking and somehow the topic of gossip magazines came up. You know, the kind that reports on the latest celebrity hook ups, break ups, arrests, rehab stints, and the various antics happening on the reality shows.

She asked me a great question. “What do people get out of these magazines and reality shows? Why are they so appealing?” She knew of my psychology background and had been following my blog, so she hoped I might shed some light on the matter.

No doubt there are many reasons for the popularity of gossip magazines and reality shows. Viewers may identify with the characters. They may enjoy making fun of the characters. They may enjoy rooting for the underdog. They may watch to keep up with the water cooler conversation. Yet there’s another possibility: Viewers may feel better about themselves knowing there are people in the world who are more messed up than they are.

There’s a name for this phenomenon: downward social comparison (Guimond, 2005). It may sound a bit mean, but it is what it is. You’ve probably done it without realizing it. Ever say or think something like “I have problems, but at least I’m not 16 and pregnant like she is!” or “I may party sometimes, but it’s nothing like what that guy is doing!”

Armed with “it could be worse” feelings, we feel better about our own situations and perhaps more grateful for what we do have.

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

Academically, it’s just plain fascinating that our brains look for ways to increase our psychological well-being. But I’m not going to suggest that you go on a mission to find those less fortunate than you in order to boost your self-esteem. That wouldn’t be healthy. So just let it happen naturally and do its thing. You might catch yourself doing it, and if so, it’s a great opportunity to reflect on how fortunate you are.

CHAPTER 6: REWARDS AND PUNISHMENT WORK WONDERS, BUT YOU HAVE TO WORK IT.

This is an oldie but goodie. Want to change someone’s behavior? You can accomplish this if you implement two of the most basic psychological techniques for shaping behavior – reinforcement and punishment (Skinner, 1976).

The techniques are simple and you may already know what they are. I’ll use a parenting example: When your child does something you like (e.g., cleans up the dishes after dinner), you reward her (e.g., let her spend extra time on the computer). When your child does something undesirable (e.g., throwing a temper tantrum at the grocery store), you punish him by imposing a negative consequence (e.g., loss of computer access).

I suspect you are having one of several reactions right about now. You may have already tried using rewards and punishments with success, in which case, great! Or you may be thinking “Duh, that’s nothing new.” Or “It all sounds good but I can’t be around my kids all the time to reward and punish them.” Interestingly, rewards don’t necessarily have to occur after each and every instance of the desired behavior. Teachers have long used rewards in the classroom with great success, and they aren’t with your children 100% of the time.

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

If you work the reinforcement and punishment techniques and have a good amount of patience, you can exert a considerable amount of control (in a nice way) over others’ behavior, and it may not be obvious to the person you are targeting. (P.S. Reinforcement and punishment also work on significant others, parents, siblings, pets, colleagues, and authors.)

CHAPTER 7: DON’T PUT YOUR AVERAGE JOE ON THE SPOT AND EXPECT A GOOD OUTCOME.

Jay Leno, the former late-night television host of The Tonight Show, occasionally ran a segment called Jaywalking. The deal was that people were approached on the street by Jay, who asked them to answer some trivia questions. The questions were seemingly simple and were usually about politics, public figures, or American history, such as: “Who is the Vice President of the United States?” and “How many states are there?”

One of the things that made Jaywalking “funny” was that many people gave incorrect answers, or simply couldn’t answer the questions. It made us wonder what the world is coming to these days, and gee aren’t these people clueless.

No doubt many of the Jaywalking people didn’t know the answers and wouldn’t have been able to come up with any even if they had some time to think about it. But psychological research suggests there may be an additional factor at work: The social situation of the interview. The interviewees were put on the spot. They had no time to collect their thoughts, and there was a microphone and camera in their face. To the extent this situation was anxiety-provoking (which I argue it was, at least for some people), part of their brainpower went toward managing the anxiety, which interfered with their ability to answer questions that they otherwise might have answered correctly. As a general rule, high levels of anxiety are detrimental to task performance (Yerkes & Dodson, 1908).

But there’s more. The nature of the interviews may also have had an effect on viewers’ perceptions of how easy the questions are. Why? Because viewers were given the answers shortly after the interviewees botched the questions. Looking back in hindsight after having been told the answers, viewers may well have perceived the questions to be easier than they were.

And then there’s Jay, who was privy to all the answers. In situations like Jaywalking or game shows, the interviewer or host is usually perceived to be smarter than the interviewee, even when it’s clear that the interviewer has been given the answers ahead of time (Ross, Amabile, & Steimetz, 1977). The contrast between a smart-sounding interviewer and interviewees who missed a question or two (or more) may have caused viewers to believe the interviewees were less intelligent than they really are.

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

The next time someone puts you on the spot, consider asking for a little time to collect your thoughts and calm down if you feel stressed. There is one exception, however. If you are expert at the material, stress probably won’t have a major effect on your performance. For example, a history professor who is asked to answer questions about history while under considerable stress would likely perform just as well (or even better) than he or she normally would. But for the rest of us “Average Joes,” a high-anxiety situation that puts us on the spot is likely to lead to poor performance. But here’s a little good news: perhaps just knowing that it is normal to feel anxiety in such situations can help you cope with it.

CHAPTER 8: WE USE A DOUBLE STANDARD WHEN WE JUDGE OURSELVES RELATIVE TO OTHERS.

“Know thyself.” That’s easy to say, and it sounds so simple. And while it is true that we make attributions about our own behavior every day, most of the time it happens automatically without us giving much thought. Example: “I’m making a special breakfast for everyone this morning because I love doing things that make my loved ones happy.” You don’t need to verbalize it or give it any thought, really. It’s a given.

But things get interesting when we try to explain something unusual or negative about ourselves. Under this condition, our default reasoning kicks in, which is to attribute our own behavior to external factors (“I didn’t mail the wedding invitations because my boss made me stay late again.”). Another way to say it is that we make excuses for ourselves. We give ourselves a break.

However, as a general rule, we don’t give others a break. When we judge someone else’s actions, as a general rule we attribute their behavior to internal factors (“But you drive right past the post office on the way home. You didn’t mail the invitations because deep down you’re having second thoughts about the marriage, aren’t you?”). Psychologists call this the actor-observer effect (Asch, 1946; Jones & Nisbett, 1972).

A similar thing happens when we make judgments about our abilities relative to others. All other things being equal, we rate our ability on a given task as above average, but we rate other people’s ability at the same task at or below average (Suls, Lemosk, & Stewart, 2002; Kruganski & Mayselers, 1990).

Example: Back in my days as a psychology professor, most of my research involved assessing people’s reactions to child witnesses. In many of the studies, I asked the participants (a) how they would describe their own ability to judge the credibility of a child witness, and (b) how they would describe other people’s ability to judge the credibility of a child witness.

Consistently, the participants rated their own ability to be better than average, but rated other people’s ability at or below average. The funny part is that, statistically speaking, everyone can’t be above average. Once again, our brains are looking out for our psychological well-being, and perceiving ourselves to be “better than average” is a bit of an ego boost, don’t you think?

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

Knowing that we see ourselves differently than others see us, and that this is normal, may be of comfort to you if you’re one of those people who feel chronically “misunderstood.” Why not capitalize on others’ impressions of you? If you are prepared for the truth, consider asking your trusted friends how you come across to others. I’m not suggesting that you automatically adopt their viewpoint, because they have biases, too. But you can still put their feedback to good use. If you are willing to seek feedback and spend some time mulling it over, you may end up understanding yourself a little better.

CHAPTER 9. AIRLINE TRAVEL BRINGS OUT WEIRD, AND OFTEN DOWNRIGHT RUDE, BEHAVIOR.

If you’re a frequent flier like me, you’ve probably seen some of the most remarkable human behavior ever – that of passengers on and around a commercial aircraft. It seems that otherwise well-mannered people can at least temporarily turn into complete asses with little or no regard for others. I personally have witnessed countless acts of rudeness, including...

BOARDING INTERFERENCE: Passengers in the boarding area form themselves into a human shield or “clot,” in front of the boarding line. This prevents other non-clot passengers from boarding when their rows are called.

HEADREST GRASP: Passenger manhandles and/or clings to the headrests while walking down the aisle, including the headrests of occupied seats.

UNWANTED TOUCHING: While boarding, passenger brushes or touches aisle seat passengers with a carry-on, or worse, a body part.

SPILLOVER: Passenger seated next to you literally “spills over” into your designated area.

ARMREST THEFT: A special case of Spillover. Passenger claims the arm rest and won’t share.

WILD RECLINE: Passenger in front of you reclines in one fell swoop, risking the well-being of you and your laptop computer. (I’ve heard that countless laptops have been broken in this fashion. Something has got to be done about this, but that discussion goes beyond the scope of this book.)

AMNESIA: Passenger suddenly “forgets” that he or she needs to stay seated during taxi, turbulence, or beverage service.

GRANDSTANDING: Passenger on a business call speaks in the loudest voice possible, in an apparent attempt to sound important. (I suspect that around 85% of the time, the grandstander is not that important.)

MISCELLANEOUS: Passenger belches, sneezes, or coughs without covering the mouth; takes off shoes during the flight; picks nose; paints fingernails; etc.

Of course, some people are just plain rude wherever they go, and I’m sure this accounts for a lot of the behaviors I’ve described. That said, I suspect that another factor contributes to the problem as well, leading some otherwise nice passengers to do annoying things: the de- individuation that occurs when an individual becomes part of a crowd (Festinger, Pepitone, & Newcomb, 1952). As a general rule, we feel less identifiable and less responsible for our individual actions when in the presence of a large number of people. We temporarily lose our sense of individuality and psychologically become “part of the crowd.”

Granted, the boarding area and interior of an aircraft are not the same as being in a crowd of people on the street. But there is one important similarity. In both situations, people, sometimes hundreds, are crammed into a small space – just the type of situation that can foster feelings of anonymity and reduced responsibility for one’s behavior.

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

There is a strategy for dealing with rude passengers other than ignoring it (always a viable option) or doing the loud sigh + glare (which, in my experience, rarely works). The strategy is to individualize the problem passenger, to snap him or her back to the wonderful world of manners.

One of my colleagues has used this strategy with success. On one occasion, a passenger sitting directly behind him grasped and clung to his headrest (much like a koala clinging to a eucalyptus tree), using it as leverage to stand up and move into the aisle. In doing so, the grasper caught and pulled a bit of my colleague’s hair, which was the last straw. He addressed the grasper firmly and directly, stressing that his actions were unacceptable. The grasper, who turned out to be intoxicated, immediately apologized.

For me, a timid individualizing approach (faked, of course) works well. Perhaps a soft “Excuse me. My name is Suzanne and I don’t want to be a complainer, but I think you might be kicking the back of my seat.”

Important: I’m not suggesting that you confront problem passengers. You never know about people. If you’re comfortable, you might try a soft approach. But for heaven’s sake, ignore it, or leave it to the flight attendants if you have any qualms about addressing someone. (I’d still avoid the sigh + glare technique, though. It won’t get you anywhere.)

CHAPTER 10. OUR BRAINS “TURN OFF” OUR BEHAVIOR WHEN WE DREAM.

When I first began studying psychology, I was surprised to learn that the reason we need sleep is not well-understood. I also remember trying to explain this to my friends and family. It typically went something like this:

Me: “Did you know that researchers still don’t know the reason we need sleep?”

Uncle Ned: “What the hell are they teaching you up there at that university? They’ve got you believing there’s no reason for sleep?”

Me: “There are different theories about why we sleep, but the exact cause has never been confirmed.”

Uncle Ned: “Well, I know why I sleep. I’m tired, I sleep, and then I feel better!”

Me: “That’s what it seems like, but sleep is more complicated than that.”

Uncle Ned: “So are you going to start pulling all-nighters now since you don’t need to sleep anymore? Good luck with that.”

Here’s the thing about sleep: We need rest, and it’s true that our bodies rest while we’re asleep. But that doesn’t mean we sleep because our bodies require it to rest. We could get all the rest we need without being asleep.”

But what about the brain? Although there’s evidence of brain restoration during sleep, the brain remains active. Just think about the brainpower it must take to produce dreams. During REM (rapid eye movement) sleep, which is the stage in which we dream the most, we may look restful on the outside, but what’s going on behind the scenes is far from restful (Aserinsky & Kleitman, 1953). Brain waves during REM sleep resemble those of wakefulness.

Part of the brain’s job in managing our dreams is to keep us safe, so during REM sleep, the brain shuts off neurons in our spinal cord (National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke, n.d.). This renders us unable to move our muscles, which prevents us from acting out our dreams. In effect, the brain “switches off” our behavior. Some people report experiences of coming out of a dream and for a few seconds feeling “paralyzed.” That’s known as sleep paralysis, and is the brain’s way of protecting us from harming ourselves or others while we dream.

But don’t some people sleepwalk and talk in their sleep? Yes. We do a small percentage of dreaming in other (non REM) stages of sleep – stages that aren’t able to produce sleep paralysis. Those who sleepwalk or talk in their sleep are dreaming outside of REM sleep. It’s like a glitch in the brain’s otherwise brilliant mechanism for keeping us safe during sleep.

WHAT GOOD IS KNOWING THIS?

Well, this one is just plain fascinating. Isn’t that enough? In all seriousness, you can wow your family and friends with your knowledge about sleep and its relation to behavior. Do, however, try to do better than I did with Uncle Ned.

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AFTERWORD

Thank you for reading Ten Interesting Things About Human Behavior (3rd edition). Human behavior is complex, and of course there is so much more to psychology than the 10 points I chose to address in this e-book. I welcome feedback and questions that you may have about cognition and behavior, in the event I write Ten MORE Interesting Things About Human Behavior (although the idea of this “horrified” one reviewer). Diagnosing and treating psychological disorders are not my specialties, so please keep that in mind while asking questions. I can, however, address questions along these lines:

“How come every time I’m thinking about Uncle Ned, the phone rings and it’s him?”

“Why do I forget people’s names just seconds after meeting them?

“Why do I persist in trying to push a door open when the sign clearly says pull?”

“What motivates people to post book reviews that include name-calling and personal attacks on the author?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Suzanne L. Davis received her PhD in Social Psychology at The University of Illinois at Chicago. She is a consultant and author who studies the most fascinating creatures on the planet: human beings. Suzanne writes about how people think and behave in everyday life, because sometimes there is brilliance in the ordinary. Connect with Suzanne on Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn, or by email at sdavis@mindgamebooks.com.

REFERENCES

Adelson, R. (2004). Detecting deception. Monitor on Psychology, 35(7), 70. Aronson, E. (1969). The theory of cognitive dissonance: A current perspective. In L.

Berkowitz Ed.), Advances in experimental social psychology, 4, 1-34. New York: Academic Press.

Asch, S. E. (1946). Forming impressions of personality. Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 41, 1230-1240.

Aserinsky, E., & Kleitman, N. (1953). Regularly occurring periods of eye motility and concomitant phenomena. Science, 188 (3062) 273-274.

Bandura, A. (1977). Social learning theory. NY: General Learning Press.

Bandura, A., Ross, D., & Ross, S. A. (1961). Transmission of aggression through imitation of Baron, R.A., Byrne, D., & Johnson, B. T. (1998). Exploring social psychology (4th ed.). Boston, MA: Allyn & Bacon.

The Blackwell Encyclopedia of Social Psychology. Inconsistency. Retrieved from Blackwell Reference Online: http://www.blackwellreference.com/public/tocnode? id=g9780631202899_chunk_g978063120289911_ss1-7.

Davis, S. L., & Sobus, M. (2004). Strategic jury selection: Limiting mistakes in a difficult process. For The Defense: The Magazine for Defense, Insurance, and Corporate Counsel, 46(6).

Eagly, A. H., & Chaiken, S. (1993). The psychology of attitudes. Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich.

Ekman, P. (2009). Telling lies. W. W. Norton & Company: New York.

Festinger, L. (1957). A theory of cognitive dissonance. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Festinger, L., Pepitone, A., & Newcomb, T. (1952). Some consequences of de- individuation in a group. Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 47, 382-389.

Guimond, S. (2005). Social comparison and social psychology. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Harnon-Jones, E., & Mills, J. (1999). Cognitive dissonance: Progress on a pivotal theory in Social Psychology. Washington, DC: American Psychological Association.

Jones, E. E. & Nisbett, R. E. (1972). The actor and the observer: Divergent perceptions of the causes of behavior. In E. E. Jones, D. Kanouse, H. H. Kelly, R. E. Nisbett, S. Valins, & B. Weiner (Eds.), Attribution: Perceiving the Causes of Behavior (pp. 79-94), Morristown, NJ: General Learning Press.

National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke. Dreaming and REM sleep. Retrieved from the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke website: http://www.ninds.nih.gov/disorders/brain_basics/understanding_sleep.htm#dreaming.

Kruganski, A. J. & Mayselers, O. (1990). Classic and current social comparison research: Expanding the perspective, Psychological Bulletin, 108, 208.

Ross, L. D., Amabile, T. M. & Steinmetz, J. L. (1977). Social roles, social control, and biases in social-perceptual processes. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 35, 485-494.

Shermer, M. (1997). Why people believe weird things: Pseudoscience, superstition, and other confusions of our time. New York: W.H. Freeman and Company.

Skinner, B. F. (1976) About behaviorism. New York: Vintage Books.

Suls, J., Lemosk, K., & Stewart, H. L. (2002). Self-esteem, construal, and comparisons with the self, friends, and peers. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 82(2), 252-261.

Yerkes, R. M. & Dodson, J. D. (1908). The relation of strength of stimulus to rapidity of habit- formation. Journal of Comparative Neurology and Psychology.

ALSO BY SUZANNE L. DAVIS

ME OR WHATEVER

Gen-Xer barely survives the 90s. A work of psychological fiction that leans experimental, each chapter of Me or Whatever is a raw stream-of-consciousness telling of an event in the life of Faith Thomas, a young woman in 1990s Chicago, as she transitions (quite reluctantly) from a 90s grunge kid to a young professional heading straight toward Y2K. As in life, some events are significant, and some are mundane and, at first glance, boring. But that's life. Sometimes there is brilliance in the ordinary. And sometimes you don't need a traditional narrative to get to know a person. You just need to get inside a person's head.

FREE SAMPLE CHAPTER

Chapter 3 - June 1993 - Café Voltaire

Lincoln Avenue in the spring is brilliant. The late afternoon weather is sunny and bright, with just a slight breeze in the air. I’m in comfy jeans with an easy boot cut, two layered black tank tops with a short black beaded necklace, and cheap black flip flops. I am appropriately casual for an evening out with my friends Jen and Andrea.

As I approach Café Voltaire, our chosen beginning-of-the-evening venue, I spot Jen loitering outside. I’ve known Jen Vernon since high school. She’s a 5’3” pixie with short black hair, dark eyes, and cat-eye glasses. She is cute and has the most amazing pointy chin which is accentuated by her short hair. Her best feature is her complexion, which is pearly white in contrast to her dark hair. Today she looks nice in a short black t-shirt dress and chunky black sandals.

We greet each other with a hug and air kisses, and she starts in a mile a minute, in typical Jen fashion. “My cash card is not working! I went to two cash stations and neither of them would read my card. I know I have enough money in there, too! Do you have cash for the cover?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, I’ve got some.”

“Oh, thanks, Faith!” She lifts her glasses up, looking at me, and sniffs. “What is that you’re wearing? You smell good.”

“Joy,” I say. “My favorite – it’s made out of rose petals.”

She takes in a long whiff of the Joy. “Smells expensive, la de dah,” she teases, then waves to someone behind me. “Andrea’s here,” she says in a sing-song voice.

“Hi, guys!” Andrea calls over my shoulder. Andrea Morse is a year older than Jen and me and a little rough around the edges, with plenty of attitude. We all met at Whole Foods, back when Andrea still worked there. Now Andrea works for some bank in the Loop. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks she’s getting too good to hang out with us clerks.

Andrea is stunning. Her eyes are her best feature – dark hazel and very large. Her dark blonde hair is thick and shiny and falls right below her shoulders. Tonight she has it in a loose ponytail. She is shorter than me but taller than Jen. She is casually dressed just like Jen and me, in jeans, a white tee, black belt, black jacket, and black flats. We all match perfectly.

We go inside and walk through the restaurant, to the door leading down to the basement theater. A guy with a nose ring and big black glasses who looks totally bored sits at a little table by the door to collect covers. Behind him, a green curtain is draped in front of the basement door.

“Roll it,” the guy tells Andrea with plenty of attitude. She picks up the die and tosses it onto the table. A four. “Four bucks, please,” he says. She forks over four dollars and walks through the green curtain with a loud sigh and a sarcastic “thanks.” That’s my Andrea. “Roll it,” he tells me. I roll a three. “Three bucks, please.”

“No,” I tell him, pointing at Jen. “We’re together.” “Well roll, then!” he says, eyeballing Jen. She rolls a one. I give the guy four dollars and Jen and I walk through the green curtain and down the stairs.

I’m not a big fan of basements, and I try to think of it as just another room.

“Wow, we’re early,” Jen says behind me. “There is hardly anyone here yet.”

The basement is nothing fancy. It’s clammy but not hot, and it is void of any decoration. There is a small stage painted black with an old upright piano, a four-legged stool, and a microphone on a stand. In the audience area there are a bunch of folding chairs scattered around with some small drink tables.

We catch up to Andrea, who is scoping out seats. “I want to sit in the middle, not up front,” I demand.

“Oh, come on,” Andrea moans. “It’s better up front.”

“No, no, no,” I say. “We’re too vulnerable up front. Someone could pull us into the act, and I will not subject myself to that.” I have seen people pulled up on stage and humiliated in the middle of a show.

“What? Oh, come on,” Andrea pleads. “They don’t pull anyone into the act. It’s one person reading a poem, not an act, and so there’s not an act to pull anyone into!” She puts one hand on a hip and looks defiant. She’s sort of right.

“I want to blend in nicely,” I say meekly, trying to sound a little less demanding.

“Oh, ok,” Andrea relents. We pull three chairs and a drink table together near the middle of the audience area. Actually, it’s a little more toward the front than I would like, but I don’t say anything.

“Hey, I’m going upstairs for a drink,” I say. “You guys want something?”

“Killians,” Andrea says. “Weiss, please,” Jen says.

I return with the drinks – a Weiss for myself also – and settle in with Jen and Andrea, whom I suspect have moved our chairs slightly closer to the stage. By now, more people have arrived. Grunge kids, some young married couples, what appears to be a bunch of graduate students, and some unclassifiable Birkenstocks. A little grunge kid walks around looking for someone, and then finds his friends on the other side of the room.

A tall skinny guy with torn jeans and Buddy Holly glasses jumps on the stage and assembles a microphone on a stand. He checks it and determines it to be working properly, and after a loud ahem he starts in.

“Good evening, performers and followers,” he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the word “performers.” “Is this anyone’s first time at Café Voltaire’s performance night?”

A couple people raise their hands and someone yells “Yeah!”

“Ok,” the Emcee says, and then he walks off stage, which produces some mild laughter. He comes back right away, beer in hand, and quickly goes through the ground rules. “Here’s the drill, guys. You slam by stomping your feet. No swearing, no hurtful insults. What is considered hurtful is at management’s discretion. That would be me. And no throwing anything. If you want to perform and you have not signed up, see me during the first intermission and give me your name and the title of your performance. I think that’s it, so without wasting any more time, let’s welcome our first victim. Let’s have a hand for Greg, everybody!”

The guy named Greg runs onstage and announces that his reading is something about the Gulf War, so I tune out.

So do Jen and Andrea. “Let’s get Thai after this,” Jen says quietly. “That place on Clark is open until eleven.”

“That’s good with me, but do you mean the noodle place or the Thai place?” Andrea asks.

“The Thai place under the EL on Clark,” Jen says impatiently. “You know, the one that does the Sunday brunch.”

“That’s not on Clark, it’s on Lincoln. Isn’t it, Faith?” Andrea asks.

“Yeah, it’s on Lincoln,” I say, but I really don’t know. “I’m not that hungry, but I’ll go. I don’t want to go to a bar.”

“God, this guy sucks,” Jen moans, rubbing her temples.

“The slamming is starting,” I say, drawing our attention back to the stage. A couple people in the front row have opened up newspapers and are pretending to read, and a preppie guy is starting to stomp his feet in the back.

But Gulf War Greg manages to get through his poem without getting slammed enough to be escorted offstage, and the next performer is up. She’s a Wynona Ryder type girl. She walks onstage with a yellow notepad. “Hi, I’m Jane. My poem is called Magic Women and I wrote it yesterday,” she says through a giggle. A few people clap. She begins: “Women are not objects. No, they are beautiful minds. With eyes and hair that inspire. Artists’ hands work magic? And their mediums, vast? Their magic, original maybe? Homage, maybe? All beautiful. All meaningful. All stolen from nature. Amen.”

The Amen gets a laugh from the crowd, then applause. Jane blushes, smiles, and bows appreciatively at the audience.

“Well, the Amen part was good, anyway,” I say to no one in particular.

Andrea laughs sarcastically. “So stupid.”

The Emcee returns. “Thank you, Jane, very spiritual,” he says, enunciating each syllable so it sounds like “spear-it-choo-all.”

“Oh my God,” Jen moans, rolling her eyes and giggling. “That is ridiculous.”

“I thought it was ok,” Andrea says.

“She will never get a boyfriend,” Jen says, still laughing.

“Jen! Oh my God, you weirdo!” Andrea wails, but she can’t help but laugh, too. They are tipsy already.

“What?” Jen says, raising her hands up in the what? gesture. “They said so on Donohue!”

“Shut up!” Andrea fires back. “Drink some more,” she says, resting her head on the back of her chair in exasperation.

“Shush, both of you,” I say, pointing to the Emcee, who is quieting the crowd again.

“Ok,” says the Emcee. “Michael. You’re up!” He points toward the group of grunge kids in the corner, and the little grunge kid I noticed earlier slinks up to the mike. The crowd cheers and one of his grunge friends yells “Yeah, Michael, whooo!” There is some stifled clapping and the crowd dies down.

I notice that my Weiss is almost empty.

Andrea leans in, attempting to whisper. “Oh, look, Faith, Curt Cobain is going to speak!” We giggle together and I tell her to shush.

“Hi,” Michael says flatly into the microphone. “I have a, uh, poem...”

“Duh!” cries some guy from the audience, and everyone laughs.

Unfazed, Michael removes a notepad from his pocket and begins.

“Pack your ammo and invite your mates...” He looks up from his notepad and his eyes dart around the audience, and then to his group of friends. One of the friends mouths “Go on, go on.”

“...we don’t mind failure...”

The audience is quiet, listening in earnest. Some girls close to the stage are nodding their heads, serious expressions on their faces, absorbing every word.

“...and we dig fantasy...” He clears his throat again. “Uh, hi there, hi, hi, hi...”

This little twerp. Clearly this a re-write of that Nirvana song, Smells Like Teen Spirit. It isn’t a poem, nor is it original. A couple people sitting in front of us look around awkwardly, and a liberal guy to my right puts his hand to his forehead and shakes his head.

“Boo! Sit down!” someone yells from the crowd.

People start stomping their feet. The stomping gathers steam and I join along with Andrea and Jen.

But the Michael kid goes on. “Hi, hi, hi, greetings...”

“You idiot! Boo!” someone screams.

“Sit down and come back with something original, you moron!” shouts another guy.

Obviously, this is some sort of stunt, and nobody appreciates it. Someone throws a shoe and Michael runs offstage, shielding himself, and disappears into his group of friends.

I lean toward Andrea and in mock awe I whisper, “Wow, you were right. Curt Cobain did speak here tonight.”

“That isn’t right,” Jen laments, shaking her head.

The Emcee reappears. “Thank you, nicely done,” he says sarcastically, and avoiding any mention of the shoe throwing. “You can pay an extra cover for that, thank you. Head right upstairs and roll the dice, slinky.” He goes on to announce the next performer, but I can’t take it any longer. I need another drink.

Upstairs, the café has really filled up. I squeeze between people to step up to the bar.

I order a shot of Patron at the bar. Do I want lime? Yes.

Now to the ladies’ room, but my foot doesn’t move right and I stumble. Some idiot stepped on the back of my flip flop while I was in mid-flip.

“Shit!” I mutter. One look, and I see that my flip flop is toast. The thing that goes between the toes is completely broken off from the rest of the shoe.

“Oh, sorry,” a voice behind me says.

It is the shoe-breaking idiot.

I turn around to say something mean, but I can’t do it once I get a look at him. He’s tall and lanky, with longish wavy brown hair and a slightly goofy, yet intelligent, appearance. And his blue eyes twinkle in a nice way. Green t-shirt, tan straight-cut cords, and black Doc Martins. Standard.

He smiles apologetically, and the eyes twinkle some more. “I broke it, didn’t I? Here, let me fix it.”

“Uh, do you think you can?” I wave the two pieces of the flip flop in front of him. “Looks a bit hopeless.”

“Well, I can try, if you’ll let me.”

“Ok, give it your best shot,” I say, handing him the pieces. “I’m going to the ladies’ room while you reassemble it.”

“Yes, I’ll...reassemble it.” In a monotone voice, he adds, “I have the technology. I can rebuild him.”

I can’t help but smile as I walk away.

He calls after me, raising his voice considerably against the chaos of the bar. “You’re going to the ladies’ room with just one shoe. Isn’t that kind of weird?”

“Probably. I’ll be back.”

I do a quick hair check in the ladies’ room and make sure I look decent. I freshen my lipstick – MAC’s brilliant color called Captive.

Back at the bar, I am surprised to see my flip flop in one piece.

“Here you are, ma’am,” he says formally with a slight bow. “See here?” He points to the little strap that goes between the toes. “I just popped the strap back into the bottom of the shoe. Voila! But I wouldn’t go for a run on the way home or anything.”

“Wow, thanks. I really didn’t want to go back down into the basement with only one shoe. It’s kind of gross down there.”

He looks playful. “Now let me get this straight. It is ok to be barefoot in the ladies’ room, but it is gross to be barefoot in the basement?”

“Yes, exactly.” I smile brightly because I don’t know what else to say to that.

“Hmm. Ok, well let’s get Steve Austin back where he belongs, shall we?” He gets down on one knee, takes holds of my ankle, and slips Steve Austin on my foot.

“Thanks,” I say, looking around to see if anyone is noticing. Nobody is.

He reaches upward. “Help me up?” I take his hand and pull him up, even though I’m sure he didn’t need help.

“Step outside with me for a minute.” He says this as a statement, not a question.

We go outside, and he leans against the side of the building, a brick wall covered thick with posters for local events and all-ages shows.

“My name’s Evan, by the way.” “Faith,” I say, extending my hand.

But he doesn’t shake my hand. He takes it in both of his and kisses my knuckles lightly. I don’t break character. I look right into his eyes - not at our hands or the kiss. No blushing, no nervousness, no fear, no exhilaration. Just a look. I think this is passion, but I’m not sure.

He slowly returns my hand to my side.

“Cigarette?” he offers, taking a pack out of his pocket. “They’re clove.”

“Sure.” I don’t know why I agree to this. I don’t smoke. But I take a cigarette and it is actually pretty good. “It’s sweet, almost,” I say, more to myself than to him.

“I like them,” he agrees. “Looks like you do, too.”

“Yes,” I say with a slight raise of my chin. “I think I do. You shouldn’t smoke, though.”

“Neither should you. Nor should anyone.” He exhales some smoke and stares into the air.

“You know,” he continues, “the Native Americans smoked tobacco to get closer to nature. What do you think of that?”

“What I think is that it causes cancer.”

“Not always.”

“More often than not.”

“That’s not right, actually. Most heavy smokers don’t get lung cancer, but most cases of lung cancer are caused by smoking. You do the math.”

He smiles handsomely.

“You ever been caught?” he says suddenly, looking at me sideways.

“Caught? What do you mean, caught?”

“You know,” he says, staring out into the street, “caught caught.”

“Um . . . ” I don’t know if he means what I think he means. “No,” I add quietly.

He says nothing else and we finish the cigarettes in silence.

“I’m going to give you my information, Faith,” he tells me. “Maybe you will call me for another clove sometime.” He writes on a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it over.

More deliberate eye contact on my part. “Are you asking me for a date?”

He smiles. “I’m asking you to call me. Can you cope with that?”

I smile back. “Yeah. And hey, thanks for fixing my flip flop.”

“Now, back inside with you,” he says, taking my hand. He leads me back into the café, directly to the door with the green curtain.

“Have a wonderful evening, my lady Faith.” His eyes twinkle a little more, and he leaves. I walk downstairs to the basement, just in time for the Emcee to announce the first intermission of the evening.

Jen spots me immediately. “Hey, where have you been? You missed somebody getting totally slammed!” “My flip flop broke and I had to get it fixed,” I explain.

Andrea eyes me in horror. “You smell like smoke! Were you smoking? I didn’t know you smoked!”

“It was just one, don’t worry.” I want to get off this subject and I really don’t want to be lectured all night about smoking.

“Yuck,” Andrea hisses, wrinkling her nose. “I’m going to get another drink while you air out. Jen, are you coming?”

“No, I’m all right, you go ahead. I want to talk to Faith.”

Andrea leaves and Jen pounces. “Oh my God, Faith, the Emcee says I can present something during the next round of readings. Do you think I should? Andrea says I shouldn’t, but I want to, except I don’t know what to present, but I lost my brain and I told him I might do it. What do you think?”

“But you don’t have anything to perform, do you?” She smiles meekly. “No, but...maybe if you...you know...can write something for me? Maybe a poem?”

“You are supposed to present your own original work, Jen.”

“But I don’t haaaaave an original work!”

“I’ll write something, but I’m not getting on stage and I won’t be singled out.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She gives me an enthusiastic hug. “I’m going upstairs for a minute to leave the artist to her work!”

Jen skips away happily and I look around for something to write on. I find a discarded Chicago Reader and sit down to write a few lines. I’m just finishing as Andrea comes back.

“What are you doing?” she says.

“Writing something for Jen.”

“Writing something? Why? Is she going up stage? She’s not, is she? What if she gets slammed? It will ruin our whole evening.”

“Hey, she can’t do any worse than Curt Cobain did.”

“What did you write? Let me see it!” Andrea says, trying to grab the paper.

“No, no, no pre-presentation evaluation!” I pull the newspaper off the table and into my lap. “Hands off, mama.”

Jen pops back to the table with a beer, and I wonder where she got the cash for it. “Watch my beer – I’m going to tell the Emcee and sign up to perform. This is so exciting!”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for her to do this?” Andrea asks me.

“She’ll love it, you just watch. I hope the poem isn’t too short, though.”

“There’s no length requirement, is there? Hey, do you think it’s the poem or the person that gets slammed?”

“Huh?”

“When people slam a poem” Andrea says impatiently, “are they slamming the poem because they think the poem sucks, or are they really slamming the performer because they think the performer sucks?”

“Who asks questions like that? You weirdo!”

“It’s a legitimate question. What do you think?”

“I don’t know, probably both the poem and the performer are slammed simultaneously.”

“God,” she sighs, re-doing her ponytail, “Now, Curt Cobain got slammed, and I think he got slammed for scamming everyone. It wasn’t the words themselves that got him slammed.”

I can’t take it anymore and put my head down on the table. “No,” I say. “He got slammed because he is a moron for reciting pseudo-Nirvana lyrics somewhere like this.”

“Right. It is personal, see? He was slammed. Not the poem. That’s my point.”

“I really don’t know, Andrea.”

Jen comes back to the table, bubbly. “Ok, guys, I’m second up after the intermission. I’m getting nervous.” “We’re leaving after your performance,” Andrea says. “I’m hungry.”

“Me, too,” I agree.

“Works for me,” Jen says.

Andrea starts in again. “Hey, Jen, do you think Curt Cobain was slammed because people didn’t like him or because they didn’t like what he read?”

Jen stares back, blankly. “What? Curt Cobain? What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” Andrea sighs, chuckling at her own joke.

Jen looks around. “Where is the poem?” she asks. “Right here,” I say, tearing it out of the newspaper. Jen takes it, folds it in half, and closes her eyes, I think in an attempt to compose herself.

“She’s a true artist,” Andrea muses. “But aren’t you going to read it, Jen?”

“Nope! Not until I’m up there.”

“Uh, Jen,” Andrea says, “I’m sure Faith is flattered and all, but what if you get on stage and that little paper says ‘Ha ha, you’re screwed’?”

“It won’t.” Jen says confidently. “I trust her.”

“Oh,” I say, putting my hand to my heart. “I’m touched.”

“Brave woman,” Andrea says, patting Jen on the shoulder.

Jen scoffs. “It’s not about bravery. Who’s to say I won’t get up there and botch Faith’s poem? That could happen.”

“Oh, you’re not going to botch my poem,” I say.

“See, you trust me, too!” Jen hugs me big. “Or you’re brave, in Andrea’s world.”

“Durrrr,” Andrea mocks.

The Emcee walks on stage and gives the five minute warning. People gradually come back to their seats, many drunker than when they left. He once again recites the ground rules and calls someone named Erica to the stage. A skinny, pale girl with straight black hair and bangs, wearing a white button down shirt and black skirt with black flats walks onstage with a guitar.

She is pretty, in a natural sort of way. Andrea would say she is “just mascara” girl. I hate that term because it actually takes a lot of work to achieve a “just mascara” look. At the very least, it takes a good foundation, a light dusting of powder, plus some very neutral color over the eyelids, in addition to the mascara. And a little clear lip gloss.

“Hi, I’m Erica,” she says huskily. Several guys in the audience say hi back, mocking her voice, and a few people laugh at this.

“I’m not singing an original work, and that’s going to be just fine,” she announces, looking around the room as if she is daring anyone to complain about this. She looks at the Emcee, and he shrugs in approval.

“But, I am,” she says, emphasizing the am, “going to perform it in an original way.” She smiles and starts strumming her guitar. Just a few simple chords.

“What is she playing?” I mouth to Jen and Andrea.

They both shrug. Nobody else in the room seems to recognize the song, either. She strums a few more chords, looking down at her guitar the whole time.

The room is quiet.

She begins to sing quietly and slowly, accompanying herself with the same simple chords. The song is familiar to me, but I can’t place it.

Jen leans in, and again in a too-loud whisper: “It’s Africa! Remember that song?”

I shush Jen, but she’s right, it is Africa by the band Toto. Erica sings it much slower than the original recording, as if she is speaking the words. It is lovely, really, and I’m totally into it.

A guy two tables in front of us stands up, probably to get another drink or something. He’s respectful about it, and I wouldn’t even notice him except that he’s right in my line of sight.

Erica notices and stops her song.

“Hey!” she yells. “Sit down!”

The guy actually stops, looks at her, and sits back down.

Then Erica addresses the audience. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I’ll be right back.” She looks around the room with that same look that dares anyone to complain. The room is silent.

She walks off the stage with her guitar still strapped on, over to the guy’s table. She smiles down at him, picks up his beer bottle, takes two sips from it, and then walks back onto the stage.

The point is well-taken. Everyone squirms and looks around uncomfortably.

“Shit,” Andrea whispers admiringly.

“That had to be staged,” Jen whispers. “She wouldn’t just walk up to a stranger and drink his beer!”

“Shush,” I tell them both. “She’s starting again.”

Erica finishes the song and holds her pose in silence. Then she takes one step backwards and smiles and there is loud applause and cheers.

The Emcee returns to the stage, thanking Erica awkwardly for her “interesting song.”

“She intimidated everyone into not getting slammed,” I whisper in awe.

“Ok, ok, enough,” the Emcee continues as the applause dies down. Our next, uh, performer, is...Jen! Let’s welcome Jen to the stage!”

“Oh my God!” Jen squeals, jumping up from her seat. She runs to the stage, smiling the whole way.

“Ok, I’m nervous and I’m not the one going up there,” Andrea whispers.

“Relax, she’s going to do fine.”

Jen stands at the microphone boldly. “Hi, everyone!”

A couple people say hi back.

“Good Lord, that was lame!” Jen scolds. “Let’s try that again. Hello, everyone!”

“Hello!” cries most of the audience, or at least half of them.

“Thank you,” Jen says appreciatively with a big smile. “I’m reading...” she unfolds the poem, “an untitled work” she says, eyeing me, “by me and my friend Faith.”

I would have preferred to remain nameless, but at least she doesn’t point me out to the crowd.

Jen clears her throat.

“Let’s go!” snaps the Emcee from his corner behind the stage.

“Pipe down, Buddy Holly!” Jen yells. The audience laughs. “Ok, everybody,” she says, and clears her throat. “See yourself in a line of all your best friends, each one reaching back, holding hands. If the weight of the world is upon you, never break the chain. I choose you, my friend. Come with me, take my hand, and look back at the most beautiful faces. Our friends.”

Jen smiles contently as she says the final words of my writing. She is happy and has a look of understanding, and I know that she has realized the full meaning of the words.

There is a pause, and Andrea begins applauding. Others join in, and there is raucous clapping and whistling. Jen bows, kisses the newspaper page, and bounces off stage and back to our table.

The Emcee resumes control of the mike and congratulates Jen. “Nice job, Feisty,” he says with an eye roll, over the audience’s rumbling. He announces the next performer, but we don’t care anymore.

“Thanks, guys!” Jen squeals. “Faith,” she says giving me a hug, “that was beautiful and you wrote it just for me, didn’t you?”

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” I say.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Andrea whispers.

We make our way upstairs and past the bar. I see Evan sitting at the bar with friends. He raises an eyebrow at me. I leave.

Andrea drives, and we find a parking spot at the Thai place right away. There is virtually nobody in the restaurant, so we can talk loudly and enjoy ourselves. We order Thai iced teas and cold vegetarian spring rolls. We switch to Singha beer and order two large entrees to share. Panang Curry with Chicken, and Lad Na with Beef. We talk about everything we feel is important and order another round of Singhas.

We drive to Smart Bar and switch to mixed drinks. We have now had too much to drink and we need to slow down, so we take a walk along Lincoln Avenue. We go into an incense shop and make fun of the merchandise and the fifty-something hippie dude behind the counter. We walk by the bars and shops and go in a currency exchange so I can buy tokens for the EL.

We walk past more restaurants and Andrea stops suddenly, fascinated by a menu posted outside one of them. Jen and I crash into her from behind.

“Hey!” Jen barks. “You can’t just stop like that in front of people!”

“But I wanted to look at this menuuuu!” Andrea chirps back, stumbling a little and grabbing onto my arm. “I heard this is a good place, and that their Putanesca is awesome you guys! Oooh, if I weren’t so full, this would all sound really good,” she says, giving the menu the once-over.

“Oh my Gahhhhd! You guys, you guys, look at the wine list! And look at the champagne selections! Oh my God, how embarrassing! This is their wine list? How totally embarrassing!”

Some people walk around us quickly, trying to ignore Andrea’s drunken outburst.

“Shush!” I say, but I can’t help myself and I start laughing uncontrollably. It is a sucky wine list.

Jen steps up to look at the menu.She spends a few seconds trying to focus her eyes, and removes her glasses, leaning in close. “Andrea’s right. They serve White Zinfandel,” she says solemnly. “That’s...terrible.”

We burst into laughter and Andrea has lost it completely. She is leaning against the wall next to the menu and tears start rolling down her cheeks, and I bend over laughing and my stomach hurts. Jen is still looking at the menu and giggling but she is not at the uncontrollable stage like Andrea and me. Andrea wipes her eyes and slides down the wall into a sitting position.

At this point, we all know it is time to call it a night. Andrea peels herself off the ground with some pull-up assistance by Jen. I just try to stand still without wobbling.

We try to find Andrea’s car. It involves a lot of backtracking and by the time we get to the car we are tired and quiet. Andrea drives carefully, and twice we get the crap scared out of us by flashing police lights, but both times it is just some cops putting their lights on so they can get through red lights before everyone else.

Andrea drops me off at my apartment and Tangle greets me with a sweet meow. I fix a vodka rocks, no lime. The thought of lime right now makes me feel queasy. I feed and water Tangle, and he loves me for it.

I want to listen to the original version of Africa by Toto, but I don’t own it. I wonder if you can even buy it anymore. I think about the whole Erica scene tonight. I wonder if Erica is assertive in everyday life, or if it is just a performance.

After one more vodka rocks, no lime, I crawl into bed. I can’t tell whether I am dreaming or whether I am just thinking. I run through all the night’s events in my head and it is enjoyable.

Now I sit in a small coffee shop that is a low-key place with old wood floorboards that creak. Everything is soft and quiet. The patrons are reading and concentrating hard, and the coffee barista is talking quietly with someone.

I hold a guitar and I’m on the stage, which is really just a small part of the floor that has been cleared of a table. I am playing the guitar left-handed, which I don’t understand but I accept. I strum the guitar slowly, just a few cords here and there. It’s a perfect song, I tell everyone. I sing, just like Erica, the same song.

I am happy with my performance, and there are no accolades from the crowd but that’s ok because this isn’t the kind of place for applause. I know that everyone liked it and it helped them to relax and enjoy life. I relax, too, and I fade away.

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