Recently, I had the opportunity to visit our Nation’s capital and meet with some members of Congress, the Senate, and with armies of congressional staff members. In the natural course of doing this, I was, of course, subjected to multiple security screenings and encounters with the Capital Police. For the most part, these folks are serious, down-to-business, and at times, slightly rude.
There was one exception, though.
I was patiently waiting in line for security screening along with my boss in one of the Congressional office buildings when he unleashed one of his notorious sneezes, the likes of which, I assure you, you have never heard. First of all, his sneezes are very loud. Secondly, the second half of his sneeze, the ‘choo’ part, if you will, is part air-raid siren, and part thirteen-year-old-girl-who-has-just-been-goosed-after-watching-‘The Ring’. It’s the kind of event that silences a crowded hallway of people previously gabbing and honking like geese as they look around to make sure that everything is ok.
I stood there grinning as my boss moved ahead of me and through the metal detector -- I couldn’t help it. I had this silly vision in my head of the Capital police and the soldiers who I had seen earlier in the day on the Capital steps all charging in to surround us, guns drawn, red laser beams illuminating the walls and ceiling like so many fireflies, and looking for the source of that horrible and frightening noise, all the while accompanied by the soundtrack to the T.V. show, “24”. I was seriously grinning this big dorky smile and my eyes were watering as I noticed that there was a gap in the line because I was next, and hadn’t proceeded through the metal detector, or even emptied my pockets.
I made eye contact with the officer on the other side of the metal detector and prepared to step through. (** In case you don’t know this, it is a serious breach of protocol to enter a metal detector until the chief metal-detector officer motions you through. This is typically done with an abrupt, salute-like motion of the first and second fingers of their right hand, held slightly below chest-level. This motion may be accompanied by a curt nod of the head and some audible cue, but not always. If you go to an airport, or a secure government building DO NOT enter the metal detector without receiving this cue or you will be faced with the embarrassing procedure of having to circle around the device and go through again, much to the disdain and disgust of said officer.)
As I stepped through, having received the proscribed “come-through” motion from the chief metal-detector officer, the officer behind the x-ray monitor, an attractive black woman, said “Now what are you grinning about?”
“I’m just a happy man,” I blurted, still laughing about the sneeze, but now concerned about getting cuffed.
She was smiling now, and speaking to the chief metal-detector officer, also a woman, she said “Well, a happy man. How about that?” And then, “Oh too bad. He’s a married, happy man,” as she spied my ring.
At this point I realized that I was being flirted with, and, I confess, I kind of liked it. The soundtrack in my head abruptly changed from “24” to Mick Jagger singing about Brown Sugar. I knew any attempts at a clever come-back at this point would fail due to a lethargic “come-back” chromosome, so I simply said “I’m a happy man, and a happily married man.” And I painted her with my best, charmer smile.
At this point, she was interviewing me about my family tree. “You got any cousins at home? Any cousins that you can send my way?” I liked the way she said cousins – “cooz-ins”.
Now the two officers were engaged with each other, laughing and talking about the rarity of a happy man, and that there must be something wrong with me. I hurried to catch up with my boss, still smiling, just in time for him to launch another sneeze.
Later, it occurred to me that I stood out to this Police officer, not because of my natural good looks and charm (kidding– I’m not that arrogant), but because I was smiling. I began to look around at people and realized that no one smiles, especially in D.C. In fact, most folks walk around with a scowl on their face (I was later to learn that this is a natural defense mechanism to keep beggars away. I was approached by a several beggars – had to stop smiling – but that’s another blog topic).
So, if you want to capture someone’s attention….smile.
3 comments:
funny thing, you can actually "see a smile" over the phone. You can hear it in a persons voice. Are smiles perceived as weaknesses or strengths? hmmm...
First, how did you get a clearance pass? Did they not know, as I do, that you were a spy in the 2nd grade? :)
Second, having lived in the mid-west and then returned to places "not as friendly", I have noticed that not only do people not smile...they don't make eye contact either! Just try to go to a large city and wait for someone to look you in the eye. It doesn't happen very often. Even cashiers in the store rarely make eye contact. I am now used to the finger wave (and not the "bad" finger) as you're driving down the highway, a smile in the store, a hello from most people you pass on the street, everyone scanning the store or room to see if they recognize anyone.
Would definitely miss the kinder-gentler atmosphere of this part of the country, if we were to ever move again!
Do you think it has anything with having the joy of Jesus in your heart as well?
Shhhh. Keep the spy stuff on the 'down low'.
You're right about small town or country friendliness. There's good people in the city, but everyone is so guarded. There's no eye-contact on public transit for example, and none of our cabbies wanted to chit-chat. For me it's very uncomfortable to get in a car without at least some exchange of pleasantries. I really do believe that the closed-ness of everyone is a defence. As I said, if you walk around grinning, every bum in sight is going to be 'patting you down' for a quarter.
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