I may be guilty of self-delusion, but I consider myself a decent human being – no saint, but a reasonably pleasant person, maybe a few more quirks than the average fellow, but overall a decent chap. I may not be the most complimentary guy, that is, I may not always compliment other people as often as I should, but I try to show appreciation when I can. All things considered though, it’s probably not my strongest attribute.
That’s why whenever I hear a good compliment, I try to get in on the tail end of it. If I do, I don’t have to be clever and think up one of my own. I can mooch off somebody else’s efforts. It takes the absolute minimum amount of energy. Sound lazy? You bet. Am I ashamed? I ought to be, but it’s become a habit. It happens with my wife all the time:
She’ll say, “Honey, you look hot.” (Stop it! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.)
“Thanks,” I’ll say, and go back to the sports blog I was reading, the TV show I was watching, or the thumbs I was twiddling. When the suffocating silence envelops me and I realize that thanks isn’t enough, my quick wit kicks in and I’ll say, “You too.”
Typically, a long sigh will follow and I’m left lamenting yet another lost opportunity. Despite that, the system was working well: I’d receive a compliment, then counter. No thought required. However, like any ill-conceived plan, my wife caught on. I suppose I should have expected that my good fortune couldn’t last. One day, a comment followed the sigh. “That sounded real sincere,” she said.
“Uh, it was.” My quick wit shone through again.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said.
“What?”
“Don’t hop on my compliment’s coattails.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can’t think of your own compliment, so you’re riding the coattails of mine.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s a coattail compliment, and you ought to think up one of your own.”
A coattail compliment – she had figured it out. “I’ve got compliments. Plenty of compliments,” I said, but my voice had faded.
“Yeah? Let’s hear one.”
“Hang on,” I said. She had turned the screws. I couldn’t think. “You look hot,” I said, but the moment had passed. I had blown it.
“Forget it,” she said, and walked away.
“Hey, wait a second! I’m not through complimenting you yet,” I shouted at her receding figure.
What can I do? I’m a coattail complimenter. I suppose there are worse things in life. Let me know if you have a solution to my compliment dilemma.
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