This is the rose bush that is trained in an arch over our well. It’s so beautiful, isn’t it? Except there is no scent. None. I suggested to Sir Renaissance that we replace it with one that has a heady scent and wild looking blossoms, but he said, “Do you know how long it takes to grow and train a rose bush?”
His brother had a better idea. Just buy some rose-scented deodorant and douse the bush just before guests come over, then discreetly re-spritz at regular intervals. Hmm. Not bad.
The Rules for Friendly Engagement are different in France than they are in America (or anywhere else for that matter). One is to be as closed and unfriendly as possible, opening up one small petal at a time in the course of a lifetime, in the name of being mysterious. In America, you’re as friendly as can be, until you no longer have reason to be (New Yorkers excepted).
So, as you’ve read, I’ve barged into the elite little groups of french fashion mothers, stroller en première like a bull in a China shop, realized it was not an effective battle tactic, and shelved my enthusiasm while practicing my pout. In general, it seems to work well and people are starting to finally smile at me and make some basic chitchat – with one exception.
Let’s call her …. Rose.
I always saw Rose standing back and standing off, even more aloof than the other moms. And I thought to myself, “Awwww – she just needs some sugar!” So one day, I approached her and plastered my biggest smile on with the words, “You know, Young Lady and your Rosette are best friends. We should set up a playdate sometime when our construction is finished.”
“No.” whaaa? Did she just say what I think she said? Okaaaay.
But I was not to be deterred. Another time I saw her and asked her how she was. Then I put on a bright smile and asked her where she was from originally (since she was obviously Southeast Asian, even if she did grow up in France). Okay, okay – I know that’s not a politically correct question, but I love to learn about different cultures and piece information together like a puzzle. And I certainly don’t mind when people ask me where I’m from, although perhaps I might if it were my own country and I weren’t white.
But she couldn’t have looked more shocked and said, “No one has ever (dared to) ask me that!” So I bumbled around an apology, explaining that I had lived in Asia and Africa and speak some Mandarin so I’m interested in cultures, Asia especially. Rather than thawing her ice floe a bit by our commonality, she merely commented that I had moved around a lot and then went her own way.
Okay. Pull up the britches. Grit my teeth. I’m used to difficult people – she’s not going to get me down. It’s time for Young Lady’s birthday party. For once, Rose waylays me to respond to the invitation. But it’s a no. With no explanation. She said, “I’m afraid we’re going to have to say no again.”
I said (in a smilely, friendly way), “Oh noooooo. That’ too baaaaad…..”
And she cut my protestations short with a “Young Lady and Rosette can see each other in school.” Okaaaay.
I started to get little glimpses about her from Young Lady, like when she always has to be after Rosette, whose reasoning is that her mother said she couldn’t be last – she had to be first. My hints to Young Lady that maybe her friendship with Rosette is not such a great idea (because her mother is a psycho!!!!!) falls on deaf ears.
So after the birthday party rejection, I still made an effort to be friendly once or twice. I congratulated her on her pregnancy, which I think she would have preferred to have hidden until the baby was actually born. But all she did was smile – a smile so tight only two teeth were showing as she thanked me.
When we would cross each other I would say, “Bonjour.” And she would nod. NOD. I wasn’t even worth her opening her lips. So I thought, “I may be friendly (think puppy – eager, pant, pant – prostitute for affection), but I’m not a glutton for punishment. I’m from New York and I can snub with the best of them.
So that’s what I do now. And she can watch me flit around from one friend to another and eat her heart out. (Or not).
Her name is not really Rose, obviously. But it proves that sometimes that which we call a rose, by any other name still doesn’t smell as sweet.
* This post originally appeared in my former blog, Perfect Welcome, and may contain some modifications or discrepancies in the names or comments.
This is interesting. I commend your kindness, because I don't have it. (And I'm from Philly, not so far from New York.) When someone is off-putting like that, I become off-putting and aloof right back, which I don't think is necessarily the right response. I feel like they have something over me if they've gotten a piece of my niceness or something. But your strategy is much better. You're the nice one, she's the not nice one. Easy as that.
Some people just really are rotten. At least she is not someone you are forced to be friendly with often, like a sister-in-law, for example. It's not necessary to be close friends with the mother of your daughter's friend.
It sounds as though you handled her rudeness excellently. You're very gracious.
In life you meet all kinds of people! You never know how they will be on meeting them… you tried and moved on. One thing for sure your act of kindness will be a constant reminder to her!
This is a beautifully constructed post.
We have a very scragly rose bush in our yard that flowers with the most fragrant blooms I've ever smelled. Looks (and names) can be deceiving.
And I'm impressed. I don't do well with aloofness. Maybe I shouldn't move to France?
this cracked me up!!!!! Hilarious, Miss W.
Like Kate, in my previous garden I had a very dodgy looking rose bush with blooms that smelled gorgeous. I also had another beautiful looking rose bush that smelled of nothing.
I do not know how you kept trying to be nice to that woman for as long as you did. I commend it, but I don't know how you did it! 🙂
Oh, what she is missing out on.
I would have given anything for a woman like you to say hello to me, when I'm hovering in the back.
I am very shy, and that gets misread as being arrogant…I'm just shy. But, when someone approaches me, I just beam and smile and am so grateful.
You make the world better…too bad she'll never find that out.
Okay so that's weird. And you are awesome for being so nice. The only credit that I'll give Rose is that I'd rather a mom blow me off honestly than subtly. Or than hang out with me and hate it. But the whole daughter going first thing? Bizarre. Seriously
Wow. Rose is totally not worth your time. I'm glad you finally decided to give up on her.
As my mother always says: Imagine there are 100 people in the world. Fifty don't even know you're alive, 25 like you and 25 don't. Focus on the 25 who like you. I think her proportions are a little off, but the advice, taken as a whole, is sound.
For some people, making friends (or opening up, being vulnerable… is hard. Cultural difference, self-confidence (or lack of).
For me, things like hugging friends weren't part of my thing til in my mid-20's — and it was really awkward. I am a 40yo NYer (Asian-descent), 2 kids. I have to admit I'm naturally quiet. I'm not a social butterfly. Words don't come easily to me. Making eye contact. I'm not comfortable in groups. Social interaction is awkward. I have to make myself be open. I like a small group, like one or two moms.
I don't think I would see a group of Asian moms in Chinatown, for example, trying to make convos with a white mom. They tend to keep to themselves.
Making friends takes effort. Rose may not reciprocate. Who knows, maybe she is feeling guilty for not smiling, or saying hello. Maybe she feels she already is known as a mom who is anti-social. Maybe secretly, she wishes she was more like you. (Maybe it's just me wishing I was more outgoing… yeah).
Anyway, Rose is missing out.
I'm enjoying your blog!
Anonymous – thank you so much for your perspective. I suspected that was what was going on with her and I already feel guilty for snubbing her because I see she half turns towards me when we cross paths. And now I turn away. guilt!!
Fantastic post, so well-crafted! Your "Rose" sounds stinky indeed. As a mommy/puppy eager for friends and affection, I tend to assume that other women are seeking the same. Then, I'm surprised by those who are resistant to taking a conversation at the park beyond "How old is your little guy?" To have someone as rude as "Rose" is even more shocking.
Her LOSS!
Some people are just not friendly. I don't understand it, but they're out there. I'll give it a try, but I'm not going to break my back trying to make someone like me. Too bad Rose is one of those types.
No name calling here. "Rose" was one of those people that needed more tending/pruning/watering to open up to friendship. Trust perhaps. To come of out her shell. It seems she was sorta coming around – ie, even if she did smile a tight smile to acknowledge a thank you. The thing is I could picture Young Lady and Rosette at a play date.
Shyness, social awkwardness — it painful for some people — a friendship killer before you really have a chance to really get to know someone. Or for her to allow herself to let go a bit.
Great story!Snubbing was definitely called for!T