Make compliments: pot beating in the minefield

Compliments are usually a nice thing. Where the emphasis is clearly on mostly. At best, they will give a good feeling to at least two people. To the one who compliments, the certainty to give pleasure to his counterpart. And the one who gets the compliment to be valued the comforting consciousness. However, anyone who has ever tripped into a faux pas with a done compliment with Karacho knows that not every well-intentioned statement is that important.

Recently I landed on the Tauentzien looking for a new pair of sneakers in a pretty hip shop. Streetwear, skateboards, baseball caps, the whole program for people up to 25. Actually no problem for me, although I have the 25 now twice on the life clock. This no-problem feeling continued until a shop assistant approached me: "Well, young man, can I help you?" I look around. The store was full of teens and twens, who bustled around, trying on things and taking selfies with their smartphones. Nobody had an advisory sales force in tow. Did I look so helpless that the saleswoman had approached me out of pity? And what was that about the "young man ?? If a woman beyond the 70 addresses me that way, that's okay. But a saleswoman who could be my youngest daughter? Somehow this sentence, camouflaged as a compliment, infuriated me. Something in my face made the young woman step back. Her eyes flickered uncertainly. "No, thanks," I replied, "I see you're not wearing orthopedic shoes." I left the store without sneakers. Am I too sensitive? Or can I just not deal with compliments?

This short episode is just to show how immensely important it is for a successful compliment, that what is said and the real conditions in a coherent relationship. That reminds me of Saywer, the womanizer from the legendary TV series? Lost ?. He is convinced that there are three things a husband should tell his wife regularly if he wants to live in peace with her. First, exactly? Second, I'm sorry? Thirdly, and most importantly, according to Saywer: "In these pants, your butt looks fantastic." In the movie that works, but in real life? I have the compliment with the butt subjected to a practical test. My fiancée was delighted. But surely that was because she was examining herself with her new jeans in the mirror. If I had told her the same thing while she hung up the laundry in her slippers jogging pants, her reaction would certainly be more irritating than pleased. What do we conclude from this? In addition to the logically correct relationship between what is said and reality, the timing of a compliment is also crucial.

Johannes Heesters, the unforgettable grand seigneur, once said: "A compliment is the charming magnification of a small truth." In my opinion, a very wise sentence, which brings the essence of a good compliment to the point. What he assumes is a real interest in the other person. Only when I look closely do I discover the "little truth"? on a human and thus the basis for a real compliment. Which brings us the perfect transition to the point? Fake compliment? to have. I know a number of Americans here in Berlin, whom I meet again and again at the parties of mutual acquaintances. After the tenth "Ohh, you look soooo beautiful tonight?" That they thunder to anyone's head, I do not believe them anymore. Please do not misunderstand: I like the American friends of my friends from the heart, but the inflationary-to-throw-with phrases I find horrible. Why this seems to be a good thing among Americans is a mystery to me. And that in Berlin, of all places, where the great Berliner complains with compliments. In the capital is a meaty? So shit you do not look today? quite as a compliment to understand. This is getting used to Neuberliner, but refreshed by his rough cordiality.

Oh yes, still on my own: I have been the TheFruitAndFlowerBasket already often made the dubious compliment, my tips are so wonderfully tippfrei. So I'll stick to this post as well, not a tip, but a compliment: you're great readers, if you've stayed this far. Honestly.

Hunting Down the Freeman: The Seven Hour Chore | March 2024