Do you ever find yourself in conversation with someone you don’t know very well – often by distinct choice on your part - and suddenly they start divulging information about themselves and their personal life that you really did not want to know. I think they refer to that as the ‘over-share.’ Or that incredibly awkward moment between humans that reminds me why I don’t like mixing with the fray. I'm thinking 'over-share' is a much more concise way to put it.
Just the other day I was with someone who started to tell a group of people the intimacies of her very dramatic and turbulent personal life. Of course she did it peppered with a chorus of F bombs (a favorite of mine, so no points lost there) and crude American colloquialisms that made every one of the English roses in the room turn two shades of pink. [I have to admit I enjoyed that part]. I think it was the way that she described how after a huge row her and her partner would bust open a bottle of Jack and get to the 'rowdy' business, that really got a reaction from the room. Then again, sometimes the overshare can be downright amusing, to witness anyway.
Back in my youth we had a housekeeper that was Queen of the over-share – and trust me, it was not always amusing. She was one of these women that would proudly tell you with a glint in her eye that the night prior her and her very sweaty and ample husband (I’m struggling to be polite here) got…well, jiggy with it. [Notice the trend here; why does everyone want to talk about their sex life??] Those were not her exact words as this was long before Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff. If my scarred memory serves, I think it was something in the neighborhood of 'tearing one off.' Needless to say, the image of the two of them doing anything of a physical nature was enough to put me off sex for life (okay, maybe not life). Then again, maybe that was her way of helping my Mom keep me in line.
Don’t get me wrong; it is not that I mind people speaking their mind. In fact, I am proudly from that camp - hence, my personality and ah hem, this blog. But I am also unbelievably aware of taking the temperature of the room (of course good old fashioned rebellion often overrides this. It can be sheer sport to create shock and awe) so as not to divulge the kind of information that makes people want to crawl out of their skin....unless I know them well of course, and then the gloves are off.
All this said, I suppose I wasn’t always such a beacon of propriety [all of you with stories out there about me, just pipe down. I’m a Mother now]. One of my sisters used to be my barometer of sorts. Whenever I knew I’d taken a story - or my behavior for that matter – way too far, she’d deliver that look that said, 'you better stop or I’ll make you stop.' She was kind of scary when she wanted to be. Funny enough, I had to level the King today with that exact look. Ah, the changing of the proverbial guards. He innocently (of course) stuck his hand right up a woman’s skirt and patted her thigh. He just looked at her and smiled with all the charm he possesses. Considering at the moment the kid likes to over share absolutely everything especially his eight pints of drool, I figure we have a few months before I broach the topic of boundaries.