I want to talk about dignity and pride, kinda.
Dignity: The state or quality of being worthy of honor or respect.
A composed or serious manner or style.
Pride: A feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from
one's own achievements, the achievements of those with whom one is
closely associated, or from qualities or possessions that are widely
admired.
I think in order for these two things to exist, we need to keep a
very big secret. With dignity, what stands out to me is the idea of
being composed. When you're calm, cool, and collected you adopt an
unspoken respect regardless of what you're doing or saying. With
pride, all you need to be able to do is persuade yourself that what
you're doing, or what you're crowd is doing, is worthwhile and great,
and you get to reap the glory.
What strikes me, is that when I find myself talking about pride
with people, they're very quick to explain how “not full of pride”
they are. We'll let the irony sink in. If nothing else is known about
our conversation, it's vitally important that they don't think I
believe their ego hasn't been severely reigned in and shot in the
head out back. Pride comes before the fall, after all. Any idiot
knows the humble pie you taste after talking too big a game is simply
a risk not worth taking. Not if you're to maintain a level of respect
from your peers or society that is.
I don't go into a lot of detail, somehow, about where it is I
derive pride or under what conditions I can feel dignified. It's very
murky waters that become very clear when I'm in the middle of them.
We can take a real world example that has prompted this writing. I
went to the Comedy Attic. I was told there is a two drink minimum. I
did not want anything to drink.
There are two distinct roads you can take. You can feel dignified
in “paying to keep the lights on,” as it was explained to me, and
spend the money you don't want to spend on drinks you don't want to
drink. Or, you can do what I did, lie and cause a minor fuss about
not having money nor wanting their drinks. Do I feel dignified? In a
sense, but I didn't go to the comedy club to find a waitress to fight
with.
What's interesting to me is the pride the comedy club owner has.
I'm also in the game of starting and running businesses. I understand
there are costs associated. I think there's a deliberate way you can
go about accounting for those costs that don't set your patrons, even
one of them, up to be an asshole for a pithy grievance. “We need
the money to get comedians on the stage.” I've bought CDs directly
from said comedians. I do the same thing with bands. I offered to pay
a higher ticket price. I just don't want a bottled water nor a beer.
In the moment though, this was not a conversation the players
involved were willing to have. This is ONE OF THE TOP TEN COMEDY
CLUBS IN THE COUNTRY after all. Who am I to suggest the conditions
under which I would feel more comfortable in giving them money? And
to achieve such heights and have such a problem keeping the lights
on. Comedy, significantly more rough a business than I could imagine.
The “gentleman” who said he'd buy two beers to “make me feel
better” only to clarify on the way out the door that “I didn't
want to hear you keep talking” was a nice cherry. Now, it's not
even about how I didn't want a drink, it's that I expected someone
else to pick up the tab, as well as have a conversation in the middle
of a set. It's easy to see how quickly these things spiral, no?
I offered to leave. I offered to just not come back. The owner
insisted several times as we were walking towards the door “that's
not what I want, I want you to come back.” Well, this seems like we
should either talk in better terms, or I'm going to make the simple
decision to not put you in this awkward place. Awkward as you've
described, because unfortunately for me, as much dignity as I'd like
to see in comedy, it's currently another overly commercialized pit of
thousands of people trying to be funny, and if I need my guts
chuckled, I don't need to pay for things I don't want to do so.
But it can always be reduced to shitty words and pissing matches.
Especially in that setting. I could call the waitress's head a
misshaped vegetable I've never heard of that's gone bad. Her hair and
head shape...I guess you had to see it. I could have told the owner
that he should st-st-st-stick his head up his ass. (He had a
stutter.) But that's not what I want, it's not probably what they
deserve, and it doesn't speak to the point nor accomplish anything.
I'm sure this is all my fault. I'm sure it's because I'm obsessed
with the details. I'm sure it's because, ideally, we'd all understand
that my intransigence has nothing to do with genuinely enjoying
getting into “heated” discussions with people utterly perplexed
by why I'm not convinced by “well everyone else has to do it!”
Actual quote. And what an insolent little bastard I'd look like
handing out a dollar to every comedian I enjoyed. I'm sure they'd be
dying to hear how much my system would save them on lost pencils and
printed ballots.
Independent of it all though, that waitress was a total cunt.
