nice to meet you

The word for the day is pleasantry.

And i've always wondered: if humans know so well the game of pleasantries, why must we all continue to play it? The handshakes, nice-to-meet-yous, smiles, pleases, and thank-yous: wouldn't it be quicker and much less fake if we all were to go by a new game of just relax?

I'm not rude. I sometimes forget to express my pleasure at having met someone I will never see again, and I sometimes forget to thank the waiter that refills my water, but I have a good handshake, a quick smile, and a habit of saying sorry. I have been socialized well to dress up when I have interviews, sit up straight (in order to not untuck my ironed white button-down shirt), and not crack my knuckles or bite my nails. And it generally works. My charm is not infallible, but I have found for myself a good number of jobs, internships, and interviews for articles (not to mention gotten myself out of a few sticky situations) by playing several of my best pleasantry cards.

In fact, most of my everyday interactions with people would probably change only slightly as a result of me one day dropping all my remaining pleasantry cards in the lagoon. Perhaps I am, again, well-socialized in this respect, but I don't mind being nice to people. I do mind putting on a mask, a highly uncomfortable skirt, button-down shirt, and heels to go impress people I don't know. In interviews (and indeed in most conversations) we spend so much time on pleasantries and skirting around the issues that we don't ever get to the meat, the point. Much like my last English paper. Much like any encounter with a boy at a party or downtown. The real purpose to most interactions are glossed and glazed over so many times they look and sound nothing like they were intended by the end, and no one really gets any answers or makes any connections.

I met all these people today with a handshake and a smile, feeling highly over-dressed, and they all stared at my resume with a pencil in hand, asking me things they already knew the answers to. I don't know why it annoyed me so much, but when I walked out of the last interview I took my heels off, untucked my shirt, unzipped my skirt, and sang along to music at the top of my lungs. This is America. Now Spaniards are no strangers to maintaining a steady appearance in dress and demeanor, a fascade, a front, a mask, but they don't go for pleasantries. There is no please and thank you, there is only give me. And the "nice to meet you" is only a word: "encantado" or "placer" -- quick and to the point. The point is that things would be much easier if only I could say what i'm thinking instead of taking that, discarding it, chastizing myself for thinking it, and twisting the vague concept all around into a form hardly recognizable or meaningful, but into something that is acceptable to say in public.