Skinner or Pavlov For The First Course?
*** continued from previous post ***
Back to the conversation.
Now here comes my favorite part of non-chosen group communication - the 'easing in'. And by non-chosen, I mean a group of people, unknown to each other, thrown into a situation where they must interact. Oh, it's a veritable Rorschach Test coupled with some mighty fine Skinnerian interactions, then peppered liberally with a few down-home Pavlovian responses. Truly, people at their best. Who would dominate the group? Who would try and build consensus? Who would initiate conversation? Who would set themselves as the Authority? The Rebel? The Outsider? The Victim? The Negotiator? The Appeaser? I rubbed my hands together. This was going to be fun!
I looked at your mom. She now wore the expression of a woman facing a firing squad. Somehow she made the look work.
Whilst waiting for this cavalcade of fun to begin in earnest, we spent the next few minutes chatting quietly with our partners, inspecting our place settings, generally avoiding eye contact. The tension was palpable and quite delicious. The dinner chatter would rise and fall in the natural sine wave of action, punctuated by long silences.
It was during one of these silences that Julie, the Doctor's wife, cleared her throat, turned to your Mother and me, and spoke loud enough for the entire group to hear. "So you rode a motorcycle up here, huh?"
And here she was, the Instigator - The Authoritarian. The self-appointed spokesperson. I could smell a trap a mile away. What devious intentions did this woman have for calling us out? It couldn't be simple curiosity, I was sure of that. No, there was a subtext here, a definite unspoken opinion behind the question. The dominance gauntlet had been thrown. How dare she use the alpha-male ritual so early in the game? This was a serious breach of gender-etiquette and must be dealt with poste-haste. Swiftly I poured over my possible responses, sifting for just the right one.
"We're not the only ones!” I exclaimed in exaggerated defence, and pointed to our BMW buddies in an accusatory fashion, "they rode one too!"
Jaws dropped.
God I love an inappropriate response. It just makes everything more interesting.
Buy The Book At Amazon! $15.95
Kindle Version $ 4.99
Nook $4.99
Back to the conversation.
Now here comes my favorite part of non-chosen group communication - the 'easing in'. And by non-chosen, I mean a group of people, unknown to each other, thrown into a situation where they must interact. Oh, it's a veritable Rorschach Test coupled with some mighty fine Skinnerian interactions, then peppered liberally with a few down-home Pavlovian responses. Truly, people at their best. Who would dominate the group? Who would try and build consensus? Who would initiate conversation? Who would set themselves as the Authority? The Rebel? The Outsider? The Victim? The Negotiator? The Appeaser? I rubbed my hands together. This was going to be fun!
I looked at your mom. She now wore the expression of a woman facing a firing squad. Somehow she made the look work.
Whilst waiting for this cavalcade of fun to begin in earnest, we spent the next few minutes chatting quietly with our partners, inspecting our place settings, generally avoiding eye contact. The tension was palpable and quite delicious. The dinner chatter would rise and fall in the natural sine wave of action, punctuated by long silences.
It was during one of these silences that Julie, the Doctor's wife, cleared her throat, turned to your Mother and me, and spoke loud enough for the entire group to hear. "So you rode a motorcycle up here, huh?"
And here she was, the Instigator - The Authoritarian. The self-appointed spokesperson. I could smell a trap a mile away. What devious intentions did this woman have for calling us out? It couldn't be simple curiosity, I was sure of that. No, there was a subtext here, a definite unspoken opinion behind the question. The dominance gauntlet had been thrown. How dare she use the alpha-male ritual so early in the game? This was a serious breach of gender-etiquette and must be dealt with poste-haste. Swiftly I poured over my possible responses, sifting for just the right one.
"We're not the only ones!” I exclaimed in exaggerated defence, and pointed to our BMW buddies in an accusatory fashion, "they rode one too!"
Jaws dropped.
God I love an inappropriate response. It just makes everything more interesting.
Buy The Book At Amazon! $15.95
Kindle Version $ 4.99
Nook $4.99
Labels: dinner, motorcycle, Pavlov, Skinner
posted by David M at
8:16 AM
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Keep it nice or I release the Zombies.
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