Like the sound barrier, the politeness barrier fascinates me no end. Let me define them first. The sound barrier is what you break when you travel so fast that you surpass the speed of sound. The politeness barrier is what you run into with some people who have honed their manners to the point that it envelopes them like a shield. You know the type- you have interacted with them for years and years and your conversations are still at the acquaintance level. No personal info breaks free. You slip them a piece of juicy gossip and are met with a disapproving silence. You ask them about their mother-in-law and they change the topic.
These people are like formal wear. Always polished and shiny. Not a crease in sight. You can never be comfortable with them. When you meet someone with friendship potential, you expect that your relationship develops to the point of 'home pajamas'- faded, has holes, a few stubborn food stains and dangling threads. Your mother looks at you, shakes her head and mumbles to her husband about the sacrifices they made. But that's okay. It's comfy and cosy and relaxed.
I always retreat from such people, confused. Why can't you open up? Tell me everything, damnit. I want to know. Sometimes, I wonder if it's me. I've often encountered the politeness barrier in other forms as well. These are the memories that make me cringe and look at the stars- please aliens, come down and take me away. I need a fresh start on a new planet.
One incident stands out. I was in sixth or seventh grade. There was this new male teacher, someone who I eventually understood to be a really good teacher with real interest in his subject. On Day one, he asked us to put our notebooks out on our desks, open to the last page of questions and answers. He walked around, quickly inspecting each student's book. When he came to mine, he flipped a few pages, looked at me and said, "I think you'll be a good student." I don't know what prompted that- my handwriting, the organization of my notes or my shining moon-like face (ahem!). But he said it and moved on.
A few days later, I was daydreaming in one of his classes. As people do, I was staring off into space, at a point somewhere at the bottom of the blackboard. I didn't realize it as my vision was unfocused, but Sir walked up and stood in that exact spot. Suddenly, I stopped daydreaming, came to my senses, and realized he had moved in such a way, it looked like I had been staring at his crotch. I lifted my eyes, and sure enough, he was looking at me. This is how much the Universe loves me.
To a young teenage girl, there are many embarrassing moments, but very few that wants to make her die on the spot. My heart sank and it never recovered, especially since he never treated me the same after that. He was too good a teacher to neglect me, but I felt the shift in his attitude towards me. This is another instance of the politeness barrier - there's no way you can open a conversation about this with your teacher and explain it all. "Hey Teach, remember that time I was staring at your...." No. Nope.
There are times when I have set up the politeness barrier on my end, hoping to send someone packing. But they're immune to it and come sit beside me and tell me about their hospital visit. I mean, come on! Those are the moments when I would like to break the sound barrier myself- BOOM! I'm getting off this planet one way or another. See ya!
