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How To Win at Conversation - The New Yorker
How To Win at Conversation - The New Yorker
Shouts & Murmurs
SEPTEMBER 3, 2012 ISSUE
ILLUSTRATION BY CELYN
C
onversation! Everyone’s doing it these days.
But are you winning your conversations? Too many people use conversation to
exchange information or simply to pass the time, completely unaware that every
conversation has a winner and a loser. Which would you rather be?
YOU: I can’t believe it! They finally gave you a five-hundred-thousand-dollar raise,
didn’t they?
OPPONENT: Er . . . no.
OPPONENT: Our little Jimmy just got into his first-choice preschool.
YOU: Do tell!
OPPONENT: Our little Jimmy just got into his first-choice preschool.
YOU: It’s so great that you’re forcing him to make life-altering decisions at such a
YOU: It’s so great that you’re forcing him to make life-altering decisions at such a
young age. Builds character—that’s the theory, right?
YOU: Go on!
Enter
YOU (to waiter): Are the scallops on the menu actual “divers” scallops, or is that a
misprint?
YOU (to opponent): Sometimes they fib. Anyway, Jimmy did what?
OPPONENT: I was saying that our little Jimmy just got into—
YOU: Does “divers scallops” mean they were caught by actual scuba divers? Or is it
just some old-timey way of saying “diverse”? Always wondered about that.
OPPONENT: Our little Jimmy just got into his first-choice preschool.
OPPONENT: What? When did you . . . I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?
YOU: I’ll let you know. Just taking it day by day. I mean, right now it’s only a freckle.
Oddly shaped, of course—as these things always are. My dermatologist says to just
keep an eye on it and come back for another look in twenty-four to twenty-six
months. But enough about my dreary travails—you were telling me something great
about little Johnny.
OPPONENT: Jimmy.
YOU: Holy shit! Is that Al Peterson over there? Don’t look, don’t look! Just be cool.
OPPONENT: Where?
YOU: He’s gone now. Can’t believe he would show his face here after what he put his
wife through.
YOU: You know what? It’s probably just idle gossip, and I don’t believe in idle gossip.
So let’s just leave it at that. Let’s go back to “first-choice preschool” and pretend we
never saw him.
OPPONENT: Our little Jimmy just got into his first-choice preschool.
OPPONENT: Well, we were worried that he wasn’t going to test well, because his
verbal skills aren’t—
OPPONENT: What?
YOU: I’m sorry. What you said was “first-choice preschool.” What I heard—and this
one is on me—is “Hearst-choice free shoes.”
YOU: My blunder. I thought you were saying that you were finally able to fit your big
feet into a pair of free shoes that were endorsed by one of the Hearst publishing
company’s life-style magazines. Again, my goof-up. What can I say—I’m a shoe-a-
holic! So forget that. Back to your kid story. And . . . four, three, two, one—continue!
OPPONENT: Our little Jimmy just got into his first-choice preschool.
OPPONENT: Our little Jimmy just got into his first-choice preschool.
YOU (singing): “Every little thing she does is magic! Everything she do just turn me
on! Even though my—”
YOU: “—life before was tragic, now I know my love for her goes on . . .”
YOU: “I resolved to call her up, a thousand times a day. And ask her if she’ll marry
me, in some old-fashioned way—Pittsburgh Civic Arena, sing along!—But my silent
fears have gripped me . . .”
YOU: Sorry. I was just listening to a very, very rare Police bootleg from the Pittsburgh
Civic Arena 4/9/82 in the car on the way over. Such a killer song. Such a killer band.
OPPONENT: Our little Jimmy just got into his first-choice preschool.
YOU: That’s great! That’s so great! That’s so, so, so great! How did all this go down?
OPPONENT: Well, we were worried that he wasn’t going to test well, because his
verbal skills aren’t as strong as—
YOU: Hang on a sec. Preschool is the one right after kindergarten, right?
OPPONENT: No. It goes preschool, then kindergarten, then first grade and so on.
OPPONENT: What?
OPPONENT: What?
OPPONENT: Our little Jimmy just got into his first-choice preschool.
YOU: That’s incredibly great. I mean, first-choice med school—that’s one thing. After
successfully pursuing a bachelor-of-arts and/or bachelor-of-science degree. But “first-
choice preschool”! That’s a whole different son of a bitch right there! Because, at that
age, most kids can’t even compellingly explain the difference between a square and a
rectangle. So for your little J-man to not only pick a first choice re preschools but then
to stack the goddam cherry of actually getting into it on top of all that is . . . well, let’s
put it this way: I know a stringer from Newsday who could really make hay out of this
one, so—
OPPONENT: O.K., I’m done. I don’t know why I even bother trying to have dinner
with you once a year. I mean, yes, we were friends in college. But all you ever do is try
to make me feel bad about myself in ways I can’t even accurately describe later when I
try to tell other people about it. So I’m leaving now.
(Opponent exits.)
YOU (to waiter): My friend’s not feeling well. So it’s just going to be one. How are the
scallops prepared?
WAITER: The first two albums, definitely. They lost me around “Zenyattà,” but—
YOU: But you can sing as good as or better than Sting, right?
PAUL SIMMS