“Sometimes you wanna go
Where everybody knows your name
And they’re always glad you came
You wanna be where you can see
Our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows your name.”
— Gary Portnoy/Judy Hart
There’s nothing better than going to a local restaurant or pub, seeing people you know, ordering a cold drink or a menu favorite, and sitting back for a laugh or two. That was my plan the other night. I was supposed to meet a group of friends at a local place, except even though I read the email with the plans twice, I showed up at the wrong bar.
At first, I thought my friends were just late, but by the time I realized I was at the wrong place, I was half a martini in, chatting with the bartender, who is a friend, and a few of the patrons sitting near me. We laughed about whether it was better to be stood up or be too stupid to know where to show up. That’s the best part about a really good pub — the people.
Well, most of them, anyway.
As I was saying something to a person next to me, I had to speak up; the place was mobbed, most seats at the bar were occupied, and tables were full of families who had just been trick-or-treating at the businesses in town, so it was a bit loud. Plus, it’s a bar, not a library or a church, right? Another patron, way on the other side of the room, looked over at me and snapped, “SHHHH! You need to quiet down!”
It got quiet then because the people I was chatting with all stopped talking and stared at this person, gobsmacked that someone would do that. I was taken aback, too. Why would someone screech across a crowded bar just to crab at someone? This is how we treat each other now?
It’s certainly not the first time I’ve been called loud, but it’s the first time it’s happened in a crowded space, with music playing, people laughing and socializing, and the clatter of dishes and glasses. Not going to lie; I was hurt and embarrassed.
Above all the ambient noise, this person chose to single me out and decide that among a restaurant full of people, I was the problem. I am an Irish redhead, but honestly, that doesn’t mean I’m louder than the other hundred people in the place.
I was already feeling like the biggest dork in the world for showing up at the wrong pub. It was just an extra bit of fun to be yelled at while trying to figure out if I was too stupid to socialize or too loud to be allowed out in public.
Or, perhaps according to this person, I was both.
A few weeks ago, in this space, I talked about kind words and neighborhoods, but it seems we have a way to go on that. I wanted to be somewhere where “they’re always glad you came,” instead, some stranger decided I needed a behavior coach.
Some days are like that, as a friend said when I told her what happened. At least there were friendly people sitting near me who kept me company, so the night wasn’t a total loss. I’m grateful they were there because they saved the night from being an epic fail. That’s what happens when people are nice, it makes everything better.
We all choose how to behave, what we say to others, and what we do in the world; everyone has a bad day now and then, but we are responsible for what we put out there. Choose kindly.
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.