Stories

When a person tells you a story about something they experienced, chances are that what you hear is not exactly what happened. They might have forgotten some detail, or paraphrased a quote or even embellished the truth. The human memory has amazing capabilities, but it is far from perfect.

While sometimes stories change accidentally, sometimes people change stories on purpose. They might explain every gory detail to a best friend, but soften the story to tell it to their mom. Maybe they use every four-letter word in the book when telling the story at a bar, but filter what they say when telling the story at work.

For example, I don’t like one of my jobs very much. When my boyfriend asks about it, I cut loose and vent about every person who is difficult to work with, every computer system that doesn’t work like it is supposed to and how boring I am and how useless I feel when I am there. When I talk about work to my parents, I say something like “i’m not really getting anything out of it.” When a supervisor at work asks me how I’m doing, I say “Oh fine, more constant feedback would be beneficial.” When a random coworker asks me, I say it’s going well.

I filter myself according to who I am talking to, but when someone is talking to me I don’t consciously think about the details they are leaving out or how they are framing the story when they tell it to me as opposed to when they tell it to someone else. Most of the time I just assume I am getting the whole story. I only notice the filters when someone I am with starts telling a story I have heard before, but the content changes.

It makes me wonder why we have these filters. I’m thinking it’s about social survival. If I just let loose at work about how I hate it, I might lose my job (and therefore the best part about it – the paycheck). If I tell the random coworker that I am not happy there, they might pry and get more personal than I would like. I use a very limited filter when I am talking to my boyfriend for exactly the opposite reason – I want it to be very personal.

 

The scary ATM

I have used ATMs in many different states and many different cities. Usually they are not difficult to figure out. The process is the same: answer the prompts by pressing the buttons or the touch screen, insert or deposit or take your cash, stamps and other items.

Normally I prefer drive-ups opposed to walk-ups because #1 I’m lazy, and #2 I feel safer in the car – if someone were to come up and ask me for all my cash, I would have a buffer zone and getaway vehicle all in one.

The other day, I was in a rush to go downtown so I went to a bank that I don’t usually go to. It did not have a drive-up. It was an unfamiliar neighborhood, so I was a bit uneasy. It had one of those booths that you have to swipe your card to gain access to. So at least if someone wanted my money they would have to be a U.S. bank member or patient enough for me to exit. The booth was novel to me and seemed fun at first. But I was in a hurry, and it was hot and I was in a strange, claustrophobic place so playing the slot machine that I always win was not fun. I just wanted to get out and into my car and lock the doors. 

However, this booth ATM was tricky. I couldn’t just open the door and walk out. There were buttons, two of them and they both said “Exit.” There was a little harmless looking, white, square shaped one, and an intense looking big, red one shaped like the knobs on the emergency exit of an airplane. I didn’t know what to do. I tapped the white one but the door stayed locked. The red one looked like it would set of sirens, bells and whistles if so much as touched it. Finally, before I really panicked and planned to spend the night in the ATM booth, I figured out that I needed to hold the white button down while I opened the door.

I escaped to fresh air and made it downtown on time with cash in hand, but what I thought was going to be a simple, routine procedure was made into a challenge by one card-swipe machine and one little white button. Perhaps the things that seem easy to us are only easy because we have done them before. If I hadn’t grown up with the concept of the ATM and just came across one,  I would be like a monkey banging coconuts together for a minute until I figured it out. Just like the little white button.