Spring is finally here, and that means the sun actually comes out and shines upon us once in a while. It's quite a change from the usual misty grayness we're all used to here in Hamburg, and it has quite an effect on the people and the mood. Suddenly everyone, including myself, is just itching to get outside and mill about in the warm bright sunshine. Tables have moved outdoors, and makeshift patios have sprung up everywhere, and everywhere you go, Germans are sitting in those chairs at those tables in that sunlight... just... sitting there. They don't talk or read or word process, they just sit and stare into space. Their skin glows white from months of indoor fluorescence, and they bask like lazy, confused moths.
It's great though, and it's time for sunglasses, and that means it's time for contact lenses. I hate contact lenses. They dry my eyeballs out, they collect dust, they poke and prod and move around. But they give me über clear vision (when they're not dried up and clouded with muck) and they let me wear sunglasses. Sunglasses! How wonderful.
So I've been wearing contacts lately, which means (duh) that I'm not wearing my glasses. Thing is, all the people I work with and/or hang out with are used to me with glasses. So lately, when I see them and they see me, often they look at me with furrowed brows. Something's different you can see them think, but I can't quite tell what it is. And then it hits them.
"Dan! Where are your glasses?"
And then...
"You look so much better!"
Yeah. Germans do this thing where they're really direct about their feelings. Of course this is a generalization, but I say from experience that a German is likely to tell you exactly what (s)he thinks of that shirt, even if it's "I really don't like your shirt!"
It's a little different in America. Say I don't like your shirt; chances are I keep my mouth shut. If you ask me what I think about your shirt, and I think it sucks, I'll try really hard to say that I hate it in the nicest way possible. Maybe I'll list all the good qualities first, and then slip in a not-so-good one at the end. Crafty! If I do it right, you may not even know that I despise your shirt and think you have terrible taste and pray that you don't breed and propagate said taste.
Now, it's a bit different in this case because they're saying they like what they see (I'm happy to report that no one has said I look worse). But there's a nice and a not-so-nice way to say that as well. I don't want to sound overly sensitive, but Dan, you look so much better! sounds an awful lot like Before you looked like an idiot!
This has happened twice: once in the HR department, and once with one of my two bosses. The HR girl just said I look way better. Okay, thanks. But my boss, or Captain Tactful, as I'm going to call him from now on, took one look at me and said:
"Dan, you look great!"
And then...
"You don't look nerdy at all!"
Nice. You know, it's fine if he thinks of me as that skinny American NERD in the office down the hall. It's okay if he thinks I scored really high on the math portion of my SATs (I didn't, but whatever), or that the only friend I have is a hamster named Barney who runs around in a ridiculously complex habitrail that I built for him to fill up the time I spend not getting laid. But seriously. Can't he keep that thought to himself?
