Deflating a Male Stereotype.

Yesterday morning, over breakfast in London, I changed my thinking about a particular set of people and the perception that we all have about them. I was advised by one of my work colleagues to visit a cafe on the Kensington High Street.

We all have this image of the site construction man - he is a gruff, fall out of bed, unshaven Neanderthal man who barely has respect for himself or others. He wolf whistles at passing ladies and has never heard of wearing a belt to keep his trousers up. He eats the breakfast roll stuffed with sausages and bacon while the ketchup drips down the front of his hi-viz jacket. And he doesn't wipe it off.


The media portray this type of working man as semi-educated - he swills beer at lunchtime with his pork pie. They work hard and they play hard. They display the farmer's tan in summertime and stick to working nine to five.

This establishment had everything you could possibly think of for breakfast. I entered, with only one other table occupied. Within fifteen minutes, the place was full of hard hats and orange jackets.



I was surrounded by approximately a dozen workmen. My preconception was what may come out of their mouths might be uncouth, sexist and chauvinistic. It was anything but any of those notions.

After all of these men had ordered their food, a young beautiful woman walked in and sat at the only remaining table - a small two seated table in amongst all the men. They barely even glanced at her. I found this utterly remarkable.

As I enjoyed my breakfast, I took a quick glance around at what the men were eating. They ate toast, cereal, fruit and muesli. Some ate poached eggs while others ate scrambled. They ate wholemeal bread. They chatted quietly without being anyway raucous.


They read papers that didn't fit the stereotype of the building site male. No sensationalist tabloids here - they read The Times, The I and The Guardian. No Daily Sport or Sun.

Their conversations were the most surprising. They talked about five-a-side football leagues and getting to bed early. They talked about religion and attending church more often. Others talked passionately about their children and the cute things infants, do and say. They even talked about the stock market and buying and selling shares.

They also chatted about the one thing everyone talks about - the recession. They came up with their versions of how to solve it in the short term and long term. They were far more informed than I was.

Not at any stage were they ignorant. If anything, they were the most polite men I had the pleasure to encounter yesterday - and I met many men afterwards, in over-priced suits that were far ruder. Your clothing is definitely not necessarily an indicator to someones personality.

And did I mention that I was the only one in the cafe - eating the full English breakfast??

 

 

 

 

Breakfast Noise.

We barely had a need to speak to each other. Such was the noise and entertainment levels around us.

 

I suggested to my wife, that we brave the icy air and walk ten minutes to one of my favourite breakfast eateries in Chicago. The gush of warm air as we entered was a pleasant welcome from the frigid gale blowing outside. This pancake house is famous in the city and the tables are packed quite closely together. You have no option but to hear your neighbour's conversations.

We had just taken our first sips of coffee when we overheard the fraught negotiations over photographs on our left. The photographer, a man in his fifties, was trying to sell professionally taken pictures of the young man opposite him. They were of the young student's graduation, and he was deciding on which one to send home to his parents. This student like any other around the world – he was high on confidence but low on funds.

Then the noise volume of the restaurant suddenly became amplified.


On our right sat two young ladies with a two year old boy. They swapped stories and drank fruit juices. The little boy was like any other two year old – rambunctious and full of chat. Except the more he shouted, the less attention he received. The two ladies were only there to talk to each other – minding the child seemed to be a little inconvenient for them.

We thought that one of these ladies must be the mother of the child. But neither showed anything remotely like love, for the young boy. Then it hit us – they were Au pairs. That explained the reason why the main topic of conversation between them - was about young men!

The surround sound was complete with two other women sitting behind us. The dynamic was similar yet different here. It was of an elderly lady and her impatient daughter. The old lady was hard of hearing and the daughter revelled in pointing out her mother’s deficiencies. The daughter patronised her at every opportunity and genuinely seemed to get her kicks from putting her down.

Every diner moved their steely gaze of ‘shut up I’m trying to eat my breakfast in peace here’ from the two year old, to the snotty daughter. I could see faces around me look at the old lady with pity in their eyes. They needed not have worried. There was venom in her tongue and she was holding it back in reserve. She knew how to deal with the bully in front of her.

As our food arrived, the bitching between mother and daughter continued. The elderly lady, despite her age, had a very good appetite. She ordered eggs, bacon, home fries and toast. The daughter protested at her ordering such a substantial breakfast, saying she was only thinking of her heart. In truth, she was saying that because she didn't want to wait around. The uninterested daughter guzzled her coffee and two small slices of rye toast in an effort to hurry her mother up.

Then we had a standoff.

The daughter was sick of waiting for her mother. She undermined her ability to cut up her food and grabbed the knife and fork from her. She stated that she eaten enough and asked for the cheque.

While her daughter was distracted, the mother simply leaned over to another adjoining table and grabbed another set of cutlery. By the time the daughter looked back at her she was shovelling another large slice of bacon into her mouth. We tried our best to stifle the laughs.

But the final, loud, all-involving, insult was coming.

“You’re gonna have to eat something before we come to the pancake house the next time. We have a doctor’s appointment and you’re going to be late!”

We sat open mouthed at this vile, ignorant comment. Why would someone have to eat before they came to a restaurant? But this elderly lady was made of stern stuff.

“Ah shut the hell up! I’m enjoying my breakfast and that doctor isn’t going anywhere! He’s seen me for thirty years and I’m always late. And you sure as hell aren’t going to pick up the tab here!”

Everyone in the diner was short of clapping her response.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Diner Envy.

What is it about human nature that invokes such a strong emotion as jealousy? To be envious for no apparent reason - to someone you don't even know or have never met before - seems odd to me. That kind of negative thinking is either built within you from birth, or takes several years of mistrust and bad influence to grow and fester. Like someone seeing a glass as half empty rather than the other way around.

Last night my wife and I, went for dinner to a favourite restaurant haunt of ours. We know the staff well enough to call ourselves regulars. We are creatures of habit, and normally go for the same dinner and drinks every time. The food is excellent and the service is very good. We always sit at the bar for quick service and to chat to the staff - who are always friendly.

Along the bar, the turnover of people coming and going in this establishment, is high. People come in on their own, have one drink and a bite to eat and are gone within 30 minutes. Others have a drink at the bar, whilst waiting for their tables to be vacated by other diners. It's a hive of activity - and a great place to people watch.

But sometimes you don't have to look too far to spot a negative character. Body language can give it away - long before a word is uttered. And when this body language displays all the characteristics of one of the seven deadly sins, everyone starts to walk a little more gingerly around such negativity.

Over my right shoulder last night, I could sense the begrudgery as he sat down. He took an age to take off his long black coat, scarf and gloves and drape them over his high stool. He almost knocked over three plates a server was delivering to a nearby table, as he swooshed his coat off. He tutted as the server finally got by.

His stool was more than two feet away from mine, yet he still managed to brush off me as his bottom made contact with the leather cushion of the stool. And he wasn't a big man. No apology was forthcoming, and this gave me an indication of what kind of character was now sitting beside us. My wife copped it too, yet we said nothing. We see these people on a regular basis.

His bar server was quick to meet and greet him, yet she got little more than a grunt from him. Muted one word answers were his norm. His shoulders sagged and his elbows propped him up on the bar counter. Bad manners and posture afflicted him too.

His server found it difficult to understand him from less than five feet away. Irritation entered his voice at repeating his order of "Bloody Mary" - which sounded more like "Blah Mar". We determined quickly enough that he wasn't a man who depended on his communication skills to get by in life.

While we waited for our food, we chatted with two of the servers behind the bar. They had time to do their jobs and still be courteous and polite to everyone.

Then we felt a stare. Like we were monopolising the servers with our chat. For a man that could barely communicate seconds earlier, he was now eager to order his food.

He had spent about five minutes reading the menu and ignoring the servers. As soon as they were interacting with us, he wanted attention. He struck me as a man who was used to others waiting on him. He was impatient and regularly interrupted others. God forbid he had to wait.

Then came the bitchy, snide comment. Our server asked if he was now ready to order. Two of them has asked him at least once each, if he was ready. He never had the decency to even look up as someone spoke to him.

"While you two were too busy talking, your other colleague took my order."

Our server, well experienced and quick as a flash - put him back in his place.

"Oh really sir? What did you order?"

"Prawns and bisque."

"Great choice! The prawns are excellent. How is your Bloody Mary? Would you like another?"

This time she got half a smile. She didn't even acknowledge his attitude and rose above his level of negativity - this seemed to bring slight appreciation from him. He had baited her with a put down, but she spotted it and complimented him back.

He was looking for a snarly response but she was far more professional than he would ever be. He slurped his soup and left shortly after. No one was entertaining him. Everyone along the bar appreciated his departure. Even the faces of the servers looked relieved. His disposition was draining.

The man was envious of people having a bright and positive personality - something he never obviously possessed.