moonglowThe Catch Up Coffee
March 26th 2008 03:11
There are two types of Catch Up Coffees. There are those you look forward to and those you dread. Bottom line. Regardless of the reasons, they are the two main categories of this oft held and much valued social custom. Sub-categories exist - eg: The Catch Up You Have Been Putting Off For Months; The Catch Up That Could Possibly Function as a Date; The Coffee Catch Up You Feel Obligated to Partake In ... but for the purpose of today's column, let's keep it simple.
The Catch Up that you dread is a special brand of social torture. Particularly, I find, in this limbo period of life I find myself in; post school (by a good 5 years) post undergrad, post world travel and during postgrad study - because all anyone wants to know is 'what are you doing with your life?' On top of that, usually is because the person one is catching up with ...
* has a fabulous life they want to tell you all about - sub-topics include Perfect Boyfriend, Perfect Job, Perfect New Apartment, How They Found Themselves Feeding Starving Children in Africa/Reading to Blind People in Nursing Homes/Holding Dance Classes for Special Needs Children
* talks non stop about themselves
* asks you probing and incessant questions about the 'love scene'
* asks you probing and incessant questions about 'what you're doing with yourself' then mentally measures your responses against their recent stint purifying drinking water in third world countries by hand with the new love of their lives ...
And you sit there, for an hour or more, clutching your latte, steadily feeling worse and worse about yourself/job/relationship prospects. You nod, encouragingly, as they well up, telling you all about the latest installment of their chick-lit life, whilst secretly wondering when the earliest, socially appropriate, opportunity for you to excuse yourself will arise. Rest assured it will not arise until Part 2 of the heinous-ity has taken place ... the head cock, friendly, crinkled eyes and 'and what about you, how are you?'
What this invites is a horrible stream of babble from your terrified self - terrified at pausing long enough for them to probe further into your comparatively sparse existence. I personally do a lot of 'and i'm really enjoying it because it will be really good experience and look really good on the resume, which is fantastic, because I'm really loving it, and it's great experience ....' and the repeat it several times. I then congratulate them again, on how wonderfully they seem to be doing, make some sort of half hearted quip on eagerly awaiting engagement news then back out, bumping into tables and chairs as I drag my bruised ego with me. Clearly this reaction - increased heart rate, incoherent babbling, the belief that admitting I am not doing anything wonderful with my life will end the world as I know it - to something so simple as a coffee with an old friend, reveals a set of pathetic insecurities. But until I feed some starving children in Africa, or nurse drug addicts back to health with my nightingale's singing voice, I fear this reaction will be a constant.
I think it is best I swear off these Catch Up Coffees for a while - or at least do a better job in putting them off. After all, it is one thing to catch up for coffee, quite another to have to justify your entire existence.
The Catch Up that you dread is a special brand of social torture. Particularly, I find, in this limbo period of life I find myself in; post school (by a good 5 years) post undergrad, post world travel and during postgrad study - because all anyone wants to know is 'what are you doing with your life?' On top of that, usually is because the person one is catching up with ...
* has a fabulous life they want to tell you all about - sub-topics include Perfect Boyfriend, Perfect Job, Perfect New Apartment, How They Found Themselves Feeding Starving Children in Africa/Reading to Blind People in Nursing Homes/Holding Dance Classes for Special Needs Children
* talks non stop about themselves
* asks you probing and incessant questions about the 'love scene'
* asks you probing and incessant questions about 'what you're doing with yourself' then mentally measures your responses against their recent stint purifying drinking water in third world countries by hand with the new love of their lives ...
And you sit there, for an hour or more, clutching your latte, steadily feeling worse and worse about yourself/job/relationship prospects. You nod, encouragingly, as they well up, telling you all about the latest installment of their chick-lit life, whilst secretly wondering when the earliest, socially appropriate, opportunity for you to excuse yourself will arise. Rest assured it will not arise until Part 2 of the heinous-ity has taken place ... the head cock, friendly, crinkled eyes and 'and what about you, how are you?'
What this invites is a horrible stream of babble from your terrified self - terrified at pausing long enough for them to probe further into your comparatively sparse existence. I personally do a lot of 'and i'm really enjoying it because it will be really good experience and look really good on the resume, which is fantastic, because I'm really loving it, and it's great experience ....' and the repeat it several times. I then congratulate them again, on how wonderfully they seem to be doing, make some sort of half hearted quip on eagerly awaiting engagement news then back out, bumping into tables and chairs as I drag my bruised ego with me. Clearly this reaction - increased heart rate, incoherent babbling, the belief that admitting I am not doing anything wonderful with my life will end the world as I know it - to something so simple as a coffee with an old friend, reveals a set of pathetic insecurities. But until I feed some starving children in Africa, or nurse drug addicts back to health with my nightingale's singing voice, I fear this reaction will be a constant.
I think it is best I swear off these Catch Up Coffees for a while - or at least do a better job in putting them off. After all, it is one thing to catch up for coffee, quite another to have to justify your entire existence.
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