Silence or chatter?

A surprising number of people hate chatting to their hairdresser. They find it so tedious and unnecessary they would rather not talk at all and just let the hairdresser get on with the job.

Because so many people feel this way, Finnish hairdresser Kati Hakomeri has introduced a "silent service" that lets you opt in advance for no talking. Apparently there are quite a few hairdressers offering the silent option.

Well, I'm an introvert but I don't mind chatting to my hairdresser. In fact I'd rather chat than sit in silence, which actually seems more awkward and uncomfortable than chatting.

It's not exactly difficult. My hairdresser asks me some mundane questions about my life and in return I ask her some equally mundane questions. I'm actually very interested in how other people are getting on - whether they have children, whether their parents are still alive, whether they have money problems, whether there are any serious illnesses in the family.

Is it in fact rude not to chat to your hairdresser? Several surveys have found that most people don't see it as rude, they agree it's a matter of personal choice whether you stay silent or not.

I wonder if hairdressers themselves enjoy chatting or whether they themselves would prefer us to shut up. Are they all natural extroverts or do they look forward to the end of the day when repetitive chit chat can be turned off?

As far as I'm concerned, whether I get a decent haircut is more important than whether I make conversation or not.

Inhibition

I’m often a bit inhibited when I’m talking to other people. I find it hard just to chatter away about anything and everything. There’s always a part of me that’s nervous I’m going to say something totally stupid or inappropriate or offensive.

So I tend to be hesitant, weighing my words and checking my thoughts as if I’m about to come out as a werewolf. Too many doubts and I fall silent, letting someone more confident make the running.

Alcohol doesn’t help, in fact it hinders, slowing me down so much that it’s an effort to say anything at all. And other people’s conversation stops making sense and simply washes over me.

People say to me, but you’re unlikely to say anything really awful, just relax and let whatever wants to come out come out. But asking me to relax is guaranteed to put me instantly on guard.

One thing that can melt my inhibitions though is enthusiasm. If I’m really fired up about something, my usual reticence vanishes and I start babbling away like a four year old, quite unconcerned about other people’s reactions.

Okay, I have certain thoughts and feelings I don’t want to reveal. But so do lots of people, and it doesn’t stop them gabbing away nineteen to the dozen. They manage to keep their secrets without damming up everything else.

So if it’s hard to chatter, why not stay silent? Well, that can work with someone I know well, who finds companionship enough. But with strangers, silence becomes awkward. They expect the social lubricant of a steady flow of words.

There’s an old cliché “Engage brain before opening mouth”. On the contrary. In my case, too much thinking and my mouth seizes up. What I need to know is how to switch the bloody thing off.
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Isn't Gok Wan absolutely adorable? Did you know that at school he was bullied for being fat and gay? And that now he supports the anti-bullying charity Kidscape?

Nothing to say

Not many people are capable of staying silent for long periods of time. Most people are afraid of too much silence, it makes them feel uneasy, insecure, vulnerable. So they chatter aimlessly to fill the void.

I once knew a young Indian woman who was as near to silent as you could find. Her name was Kalpana and she worked in the same bookshop as me.

We would go out to a coffee shop and she would be quite comfortable for long stretches simply observing me and her surroundings. Occasionally she would ask me a question such as "Why did you shave off your beard?" or "When did you last feel sad?"

Or she would point out something she had seen. "Look at that guy with the amazing ginger hair" or "That waitress has a tattoo on her left shoulder". And I would see things I wouldn't have noticed otherwise.

She seldom said anything about herself. If I asked her why, she would say "I can't be bothered. And anyway, who really wants to know?" Well, I do, I would reply, but she wasn't to be budged. It took me many months simply to find out where she lived, how many siblings she had, what her parents did. "I prefer just looking and listening" she said.

This was at a time when I was having therapy. When I told her how much it cost, she smiled and said "I could listen to you, and I'd only charge a fiver an hour."

You might think she was too reticent, too self-effacing, too willing to be an audience for others. But she was always visibly happy, even when everyone else in the bookshop was scowling and disgruntled. She had some inner spiritual flame that illuminated her whole being and was never extinguished by anything.

She was a beautiful person and I was privileged to have crossed her path.

Cartoon shamelessly stolen from Eclectica