Writer’s Workshop: Lost In Translation
by Jenners • 05/26/2010 • Confessions, Life, Writers Workshop • 35 Comments
This week, I’m choosing prompt 1: Describe a time when you had difficulty communicating with someone who speaks a different language than you. (inspired by Jen from Hamster Central)
This prompt jumped out at me … but I’m taking it in a different direction than was probably intended. In my story, we both spoke English, but we certainly weren’t speaking the same language.
First a bit of background….
When I was sophomore in college, I met a guy who was my “First Real Love.” (I put that in quotes because, looking back on it 20 years later, I realize I knew nothing about love and he certainly wasn’t in love with me.) I was nuts about this guy … to the point where I debased myself for him. In retrospect, I cringe at my behavior and weakness. I had so little respect for myself and gave him incredible power over me. It was a true case of Unrequited Love, and he played me like a violin. And the pull wasn’t how he looked (because he really wasn’t attractive); it was his voice and the way he talked. He just wormed his way into my heart (and the hearts of many other girls, I later found out), and he could charm and beguile and dazzle you with words until you were putty in his hands. This “relationship” lasted about 6 months or so until I “drove him away” with my “neediness” and “desire for something more.” I was devastated when he ended the relationship. To this day, I feel like a part of me never really got over it completely. (I think all First Big Loves and Heartbreaks are like this. Like that Rod Stewart song says “The first cut is the deepest.”)
So, looking back now, I realize that pretty much every conversation we ever had was a study in miscommunication, crossed signals and differing agendas. I was so blind to the nuances and the truth of his behavior (actions speak louder than words is the lesson here!) and so hopelessly blinded by my “love” for him, that I wish I could go back now and give my 19-year-old self the translation and subtext that I didn’t have then.
So here you go, 19-Year-Old Jenners. Here is what he was really saying and what you didn’t hear. The actual conversation is in plain text. The translation follows in parentheses and italics.)
A Brief Meeting On Campus
Me: Hi. I didn’t see you in class today. (I was looking for you everywhere and heartbroken when I didn’t see you. I let it affect my mood and was sad until I happened to spy you across the campus and was able to quickly change my course so we’d accidentally on purpose run into each other.)
Him: Oh hi. Yeah … I overslept. (I was hungover from partying last night.)
Me: Well, I took some good notes. (Unconsciously I know that is part of the reason you keep me around … plus I’m just a really anal-retentive note taker.)
Him: Oh … good. Can I borrow them? (Sweet! With this chick around, I don’t ever need to go to class again.)
Me: Of course. I can bring them by later if you want. (I totally hope he says to bring them by his apartment and we end up hanging out. Please. Please. Please.)
Him: Uh ……. yeah. OK. That’s fine. Stop by about 4:00. (F*ck! I was hoping she’d have them with her. Now I gotta see her again later. But the midterm is coming up, and I need those notes.)
Me: I’ll be there. (Yay!!!! My day is good again!)
Him: Gotta jet. I’ll be late for work. (And if I’m late again, I might lose this job.)
Me: OK. Bye. See you at 4:00. (Yay!!!!!!! He totally likes me!)
At His Apartment at 4:00 pm
Me (to myself): He said 4:00 but he isn’t home. I wonder where he is? I hope he didn’t forget like last time we had plans, and he never showed up. I’ll just wait here. Panic that I’m going to be stood up … again ... begins to surface.
Thirty minutes go by. Not once do I consider leaving.
Him: Oh … you scared me! What are doing here? (WTF? Why is she showing up at my house? I hate that.)
Me: I was bringing the notes by from class this morning. Remember? We were supposed to meet here at 4:00. (He’s here!!!! Finally!!!!)
Him: Oh yeah, sure. C’mon in. (Might as well let her in. I’m feeling kind of horny anyway.)
Me: OK. (Yes!!! He wants me to come in!!!!)
Him: Wanna listen to some Floyd? (Gotta chill out for a bit. I hope I have some Henry Weinhards left.)
Me: Sure … I love Pink Floyd. (I love whatever YOU love so you’ll be interested in me. In truth, I think Pink Floyd is OK but I’m not nearly as obsessed with them as you are .. but I’d never let you know that because then you might not like me. But if I have to watch The Wall again, I think I’ll pull my eyes out.)
We sit listening to Wish You Were Here in relative silence for a time while he drinks Henry Weinhards. Then we start kissing.
Him: Oh yeah … oh. (God I’m horny. Let’s see how far I can push her this time to give it up.)
Me: Oh …. oh…. (We’re kissing! We’re kissing!!! I hope I don’t smell bad! I think he likes me. I love him soooooooooooooo much.)
Him: Wanna go in the bedroom? (I totally need to get laid.)
Me: Uh…sure. (OH MY GOD!!!! I love him so much so doing more can’t possibly be wrong. I love him! I love him! I love him. I hope he loves me.)
Things happen that shall not be described. Afterwards ….
Him: God, I could totally fall asleep right now. (I hope she’ll take the hint and leave. I wanna get to the bar later and I don’t want her tagging along.)
Me: Me too. (OH MY GOD. I love him. I love him. I love him. I hope we get married. I think he is The One. He is so amazing and wonderful and smart and intelligent and I hope he loves me. I wonder if he does. He must … why else would he want to be with me?)
Him: Actually, I’m kinda hungry. How about we get a slice of pizza and I’ll walk you to your dorm. I gotta write a paper tonight that I’ve been putting off. (This chick never turns down pizza … then I’ll dump her off at the dorm and head on down to meet Matt at the bar to hear that reggae band. Plus I think Carrie will be there tonight and I dig her.)
Me: Um.. ok. That sounds good. (Well, I am kinda hungry and pizza sounds good. Maybe he’ll want me to help him with his paper!!!)
Him: OK, let’s go. Do you have any money by the way? I’m flat broke. (I need my money for drinks later.)
Me: Sure … I can pay. (I love him. I love him. I love him.)
AND CUT…
Variations on this conversation took place hundreds of time … with him picking me up and putting me down when it was convenient until I bothered him too much. Sometimes we would have “deep” talks and he flattered me by making me feel smart and worthy to converse with him.
And now, years later, I realize the reason we had such difficulty communicating was that I don’t speak ASSHOLE!
Cringing in shame remembering this and thanking my lucky stars I’m not there anymore,
P.S. And to you who reads my blog who knew me from this time, this isn’t about you. It is about someone else so don’t worry.
Ah, if only Rosetta Stone had a series on Asshole-speak, it would save us all a whole lotta trouble!
Oh my are you sure you weren't spying on me many years ago?! I think I knew a few guys like that and um, I was waaay too needy back then!
Wow – I really like your spin on this. To echo what someone else said, reading your inner monologues was heartbreaking and, alas, reminds me of a relationship I had in college. Very well-written! And thanks for stopping by!
Ouch. I've been there, too. I don't know how I didn't pick up some conversational Asshole after a few months……
That really sucks. And yeah that guy was a complete and total jerk.
: D
It's funny how you had to put that disclosure on your blog…isn't it amazing how people read things on your blog and they ASSUME they are about them…makes me want to call them on the phone and start singing "You're so vain, I bet you think this post is about you, don't you?"
But I can relate, been there a time or two!
Awesome post! You could've been writing the dialogue for several of my own relationships because, yes, I'm so pathetic that I've had not one but many pairings such as this. It took a long time for me to expect better for myself.
P.S. Thanks for visiting my blog!
From watching older girls, I learned to curb my inner "eager puppy" a bit. Instead of the charmer, I seemed to attract the "fixer upper" – and I wanted to save him from himself, poor thing. And I was much, much older than 19 the last time.
I don't think they spoke Asshole, they spoke User, with a Con Man accent.
Wow, I guess every first love story is pretty much the same. Sounds exactly like mine at least, except we were still in high school. He was still a manipulative jerk tho.
Over from Mama Kat's
And it's so true that you can speak the same language without speaking the same language. Especially in college. With guys. They are fluent in asshole there I've found. Maybe there's a class we missed?
Ahhh, our posts SO could be related!
Don't you wish we could go back and shake ourselves??? I actually found my college journal a few weeks ago and reading it, I just wanted to shake myself- didn't I reread what I wrote? Why could't I see what was happening?
Yeah, my favorite part is the "it's not about you" in the PS, too.
: D
okay, was in anguish through most of this post. well done. pretty sure i dated that same guy…
I LOVE this! Sigh…I was so like you too and I have had these dialogues many many times…just like I never became fluent in Japanese I never quite got the hang of ASSHOLE either even though all the guys were speaking it!
Amazing how clear everything is decades later, isn't it?
Thanks so much for stopping by earlier – I appreciated your comment and am so glad you chose not to skip my post!
LOVE IT! I think we have all been here at some point in our lives. I don't speak asshole very well either!
My favorite part is "it's not about you" in the PS. Poor 19 year old Jenners.
I am so incredibly glad to have had a short dating life. I met the husband right before I turned 18 at the end of freshman year of college so I got to end the horrors then. I still had these sorts of experiences but luckily they were only high school so there was much less "given up".
And I love the p.s.! As if someone wouldn't know if they were an ass to you or not.
LOVE THIS!
I don't speak "asshole".
Well said, there.
*sigh* yeah. It is cringe-worthy moments like that which make me want to invent a memory-erasing potion.
I think that if we could have had our 40 year old wisdom at 19 we all would have been better off.
Asshole is a language I dont speak either but I seem to meet a lot of people who know it quite well…..
You are SO gifted! You took back 30 years ago — different people, slightly different circumstances, exact same emotions. I am so enamored with your writing talent
Young love… so painful. It's amazing to think that someone so smart could be so stupid. (I'm speaking from personal experience here…) Love in translation – or not – makes this post a really good read.
oh gosh – i have totally been there too. I am not sure who I feel more sorry for: the boys that played on our innocence and hopes or us for being so gaga over boys that we were blinded to the truth.
I loved your interpretation of the prompt. Loved your post
Totally hits home and then some.
::nods head::
been there…man…lol…sorry it happened to you too..but aren't you glad (like I am) that you see this now and can help others who are either in that situation or even in my personal case – have a lecture with my teenage sons on how to NEVER treat a woman like that or mommy will come chop parts of your anatomy off that you are very proud of??
Lol! Love your blog!!
I love the direction you took this.
Glad you don't speak his language.
By the way, those must have been some good notes!
HA! Definitely two different languages going on there. Over the last 20 years my life has been full of miscommunication between the French and my poor french.
That sounds like a page (or 50) from my book too.
I always wondered if that language was taught by coaches when we thought guys were doing something – I don't know – macho. Maybe it was the male version of that film they used to show in girls' gym classes, "Good Girls Don't" or whatever it was called.
There's gotta be a class somewhere, because so many excel at speaking it, even if they stink at actual English.
Aww…I feel so bad for the 19-year-old you. It must have sucked to be so "in love" with someone who didn't feel the same way back. Of course, our younger versions of ourselves tend to be in denial with a lot of the things that went on in our lives and it isn't until we step back and look back at it that we realized how silly we were back then.
At least you managed to "escape" this jerk, even if he's the one who broke your heart. I wouldn't want to be the girl who ended up married to this kind of guy.
Oh cringe… I remember having terrible crushes on boys… Thank goodness the teenage years are long gone!
My heart was breaking for you during those inner dialogues. I remember going through those kind of emotions with jerks too.
I have had very similar conversations!