I Was Born With a Resting Bitch Face – Chapter 10 – Lost in Translation

I like asking questions.

Real questions.

Not the ones you ask just to be polite. The ones I genuinely want answers to.

And when I ask, I usually don’t smile.

Because I’m serious.

I want to know.

Apparently, this can be a problem.

At my workplace, I once asked a coworker:

“Do I sound rude?”

Not straightforward.

I know I’m straightforward. I’ve known that for years.

I meant rude.

There’s a difference.

At least, I hope there is.

The answer was:

“Not rude. Blunt.”

Oh.

Okay.

Thank you.

I think.

Because now I have another question.

Was that the truth, or was this person just being nice to me?

I’m leaning toward the second option.

See, I have something to compare myself to now.

I hear how other people ask questions.

How they start with something pleasant. Add a little joke. Maybe apologize for asking. Explain why they’re asking. Make sure everybody feels comfortable.

And then, eventually, get to the actual question.

I usually start there.

With the question.

If something isn’t working, I want to know why.

If there’s a problem, I want to know what we’re doing about it.

If somebody made a mistake, I want to know how we’re fixing it.

Not because I want to make anyone uncomfortable.

Because I want the answer.

And the faster we get to it, the faster we can move on.

Honestly, it works.

We don’t spend twenty minutes walking around the unpleasant part of a conversation, pretending it isn’t sitting right there in front of us.

We deal with it.

Problem solved.

Everybody goes back to work.

Excellent.

Except there’s one little thing I keep wondering about.

My face.

Because while I’m asking my perfectly reasonable question, my face is doing absolutely nothing to help.

No reassuring smile.

No friendly little laugh.

Just me, looking at somebody, waiting for an answer.

And maybe that person is completely fine.

Maybe they even appreciate not wasting time.

Or maybe I’ve just made their day a little cloudier.

Maybe the conversation was productive for me and unpleasant for them.

I don’t know.

That’s the problem with asking questions.

Sometimes you get an answer.

Sometimes you get another question.

And I genuinely want to know:

Is getting the result faster worth making somebody feel uncomfortable along the way?

I haven’t figured that one out yet.

Apparently, my face needs subtitles too.

And I’m still working on the translation.