They’re very easy words. A phrase made up of seven single-syllable words, making up a simple question. It’s even a question that very few would answer in the negative. And yet I have trouble saying it.
It represents a risk. It gives someone else the opportunity to say no. It’s exposing yourself to the possibility of rejection, or at least discomfort, however casual.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
I recently went to see a performance of “The Rocky Horror Show.” If you are not part of the theatre community, you may not realize that the landscape of the evening is a little different for us. We can’t just leave the theatre. We hang around. Half of the cast were friends of mine - it would just be rude to leave without saying hello, especially when they had all done such a great job! So we hang out in the lobby or by the stage door, waiting to say hello, good job, etc.
If you’re in the cast, it can be hard to just go home after a show. You’ve just done something extraordinary with some of your best friends, and you’re full of adrenaline-fueled energy. From this comes the tradition of the after-show bar.
Now, I don’t want to intrude. I’m very familiar with the camaraderie of a cast, and I know how awkward it can be to have a stranger at the table. There’s a shared history among a cast that even an outsiders’s close friendship can sometimes have trouble penetrating. So I shared my congratulations and prepared to head home.
It represents a risk. It gives someone else the opportunity to say no. It’s exposing yourself to the possibility of rejection, or at least discomfort, however casual.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
I recently went to see a performance of “The Rocky Horror Show.” If you are not part of the theatre community, you may not realize that the landscape of the evening is a little different for us. We can’t just leave the theatre. We hang around. Half of the cast were friends of mine - it would just be rude to leave without saying hello, especially when they had all done such a great job! So we hang out in the lobby or by the stage door, waiting to say hello, good job, etc.
If you’re in the cast, it can be hard to just go home after a show. You’ve just done something extraordinary with some of your best friends, and you’re full of adrenaline-fueled energy. From this comes the tradition of the after-show bar.
Now, I don’t want to intrude. I’m very familiar with the camaraderie of a cast, and I know how awkward it can be to have a stranger at the table. There’s a shared history among a cast that even an outsiders’s close friendship can sometimes have trouble penetrating. So I shared my congratulations and prepared to head home.
A few blocks from the theatre I spotted a couple of friends from the cast hanging out on the street corner, chatting. I stopped and again remarked on how much I enjoyed the performance. As it turned out, they were waiting for a few more cast members to join them before going into Paddy’s bar. They even asked me if others were on their way. I, of course, had no idea. I was just an audience member on my way home.
“Well, I guess we could wait for them inside.”
There it was. They were abandoning the open forum of the street corner for the selective intimacy of the late night, after theatre bar. I had two choices: say goodnight and head home to the comfortable solitude of my apartment, or impose myself on their cast bonding time with the chance of being the odd stranger at the table. All it took was seven syllables.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
It’s almost comically cliche how many of our psychological issues can be traced back to our childhood. When I first went to counseling, my mother was certain she was going to end up being blamed for everything. In this case, however, it would be less her than my big sister who would shoulder the weight of my reticence. As a middle child, you’re the unwanted guest at any party, the tag-along who is tolerated because your inclusion is required rather than desired. I spent a lot of time in groups that I knew I didn’t belong in. It left me permanently wondering whether I was included or intruding in any group I ended up with. Especially if I invited myself. So I never invited myself. I never took it for granted that I was included. I needed to be asked.
I know. It was forty years ago. Get over it.
“Well, I guess we could wait for them inside.”
There it was. They were abandoning the open forum of the street corner for the selective intimacy of the late night, after theatre bar. I had two choices: say goodnight and head home to the comfortable solitude of my apartment, or impose myself on their cast bonding time with the chance of being the odd stranger at the table. All it took was seven syllables.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
It’s almost comically cliche how many of our psychological issues can be traced back to our childhood. When I first went to counseling, my mother was certain she was going to end up being blamed for everything. In this case, however, it would be less her than my big sister who would shoulder the weight of my reticence. As a middle child, you’re the unwanted guest at any party, the tag-along who is tolerated because your inclusion is required rather than desired. I spent a lot of time in groups that I knew I didn’t belong in. It left me permanently wondering whether I was included or intruding in any group I ended up with. Especially if I invited myself. So I never invited myself. I never took it for granted that I was included. I needed to be asked.
I know. It was forty years ago. Get over it.
Easier said than done, especially when you’ve made the entire world one big high school cafeteria where you’re not welcome at the cool kids’ table. I’ve told myself that these are my friends, that of course they welcome me. I know that I am a part of a welcoming community. I have assurances and even some confidence that I’m good company. It’s just hard to remember all that while I’m feeling as if I crashed a party.
I did join my friends from the Rocky Horror cast at Paddy’s that night. The three of us went in, ordered drinks and took a table. Eventually more of the company showed up. Some I knew, some I didn’t. The party was divided between our table and a group in a booth, and I stayed where I was, flanked by a lovely young lady with whom I’d worked before, and another who I’d seen perform but hadn’t met. She had actually arrived in town during my recent long dry spell, and hadn’t seen me in anything. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to actually introduce myself to anyone in the musical theatre community.
So despite all my misgivings, I was not dismissed, ignored or treated like an outsider. I reconnected with friends and made some new connections. I enjoyed myself. I was welcomed at the table.
Lesson learned, right?
I did join my friends from the Rocky Horror cast at Paddy’s that night. The three of us went in, ordered drinks and took a table. Eventually more of the company showed up. Some I knew, some I didn’t. The party was divided between our table and a group in a booth, and I stayed where I was, flanked by a lovely young lady with whom I’d worked before, and another who I’d seen perform but hadn’t met. She had actually arrived in town during my recent long dry spell, and hadn’t seen me in anything. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to actually introduce myself to anyone in the musical theatre community.
So despite all my misgivings, I was not dismissed, ignored or treated like an outsider. I reconnected with friends and made some new connections. I enjoyed myself. I was welcomed at the table.
Lesson learned, right?
Two weeks later I was invited to see a show at Lakewood Theatre in Lake Oswego. A friend in the cast offered me a comp ticket to “She Loves Me”. I suspect that the house was papered that night, as it wasn’t full and a lot of young actors and theatre friends were in attendance.
I enjoyed the show, especially my friend’s performance, and once again I found myself waiting for the cast after the show.
As I mingled with the company and various audience members, I overheard their plans. They were headed from the theatre to a late night spot in downtown Lake Oswego. I know the place well, casts of Lakewood shows often end up there. It’s right on the way out of town. But no one said directly to me, “We’re all going to the Gemini” or “Are you coming…” A few did say goodnight to me as they left, obviously ending their association with me for the evening.
So I went home. I came up with reasons. I had a car I needed to return by a certain time. I had to work in the morning. I had already spent enough of my entertainment budget. But the real reason was as insidious as it was predictable.
I wasn’t invited.
The quest to venture out of my comfort zone will not be completed with a single victory. Every challenge will present itself time and again, and each time I will hear my inner monologue, and I will have to decide whether or not to listen.
I enjoyed the show, especially my friend’s performance, and once again I found myself waiting for the cast after the show.
As I mingled with the company and various audience members, I overheard their plans. They were headed from the theatre to a late night spot in downtown Lake Oswego. I know the place well, casts of Lakewood shows often end up there. It’s right on the way out of town. But no one said directly to me, “We’re all going to the Gemini” or “Are you coming…” A few did say goodnight to me as they left, obviously ending their association with me for the evening.
So I went home. I came up with reasons. I had a car I needed to return by a certain time. I had to work in the morning. I had already spent enough of my entertainment budget. But the real reason was as insidious as it was predictable.
I wasn’t invited.
The quest to venture out of my comfort zone will not be completed with a single victory. Every challenge will present itself time and again, and each time I will hear my inner monologue, and I will have to decide whether or not to listen.