Deipnosophist \dyp-NOS-uh-fist\, noun:
Someone who is skilled in table talk.
A deipnosophist I am not. In fact, now that I think about it, I don’t think I qualify as a sophist of any sort.
I always knew that making small talk was an art perfected through years spent feigning interest in the private idiosyncrasies of strangers. But I never knew that one could be awarded a specialist label for excelling in this area.
For those of you whose jobs require you to meet, greet and smile sweetly at perfect strangers, you would probably have honed a whole arsenal of deipnosophistic skills that you can fire away with ease.
For me, I make my visitors feel welcome by putting on my best non-fakey smile, which effectively utilises only the facial muscles on the right side of my face, and issuing mono-syllabic grunts when I’m greeted with chirps of “how are you?”.
The term, social Neanderthal, comes to mind.
Her Royal Majesty, on the other hand, has no problems meeting and greeting her loyal subjects. Perhaps, years of dispensing royal diplomacy have honed her social abilities, and it also helps that she has a natural sunny and cheery disposition. As a result, Her Royal Majesty often ends up being the one putting visitors at ease, and assuring them that I do not harbour criminal tendencies towards any of them.
I’m just glad that I don’t have to strain my facial muscles more often than I do now. Otherwise, I might just end up with the right end of my lips in a permanent upwards crook. You do know what they say to kids who like to make funny faces right?
Someone who is skilled in table talk.
A deipnosophist I am not. In fact, now that I think about it, I don’t think I qualify as a sophist of any sort.
I always knew that making small talk was an art perfected through years spent feigning interest in the private idiosyncrasies of strangers. But I never knew that one could be awarded a specialist label for excelling in this area.
For those of you whose jobs require you to meet, greet and smile sweetly at perfect strangers, you would probably have honed a whole arsenal of deipnosophistic skills that you can fire away with ease.
For me, I make my visitors feel welcome by putting on my best non-fakey smile, which effectively utilises only the facial muscles on the right side of my face, and issuing mono-syllabic grunts when I’m greeted with chirps of “how are you?”.
The term, social Neanderthal, comes to mind.
Her Royal Majesty, on the other hand, has no problems meeting and greeting her loyal subjects. Perhaps, years of dispensing royal diplomacy have honed her social abilities, and it also helps that she has a natural sunny and cheery disposition. As a result, Her Royal Majesty often ends up being the one putting visitors at ease, and assuring them that I do not harbour criminal tendencies towards any of them.
I’m just glad that I don’t have to strain my facial muscles more often than I do now. Otherwise, I might just end up with the right end of my lips in a permanent upwards crook. You do know what they say to kids who like to make funny faces right?
- Melvin
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