Your grandparents will teach you what it is to love unconditionally. Your Mum will teach you what it takes to raise a family. Your Dad will teach you how to be a man. The people you meet while traveling the world will teach you to make the most of life. A string of beautiful women will teach you all about dealing with disappointment and rejection – the special girls may even help you realise just how big of an idiot you really are.
There are some lessons you’ll learn all by yourself too; like the repercussions of mixing vodka with scotch… and beer… and sambucca… on the same night. Oh boy.
Now, I didn’t expect it when I first saw him, but a young lad who jumped on my train last week had a lesson of his own to deliver.
It was early in the morning on a classic Melbourne winter’s day. As per strict Metro guidelines, I was listening to music on my iPhone with a blank expression on my face, looking out the window, pondering the big questions in life:
Why do British people never sound British when they sing?
Who decided the freezer wasn’t worthy of a door light?
My train stopped at Oakleigh and on jumped my new teacher, who sat himself directly opposite me.
Twenty years of age at the most, he was wearing a thick black hoodie, wrap-around sunglasses at 7.42am and sporting one of those looks that said; “My flaming neck tattoo will teach society that I’m my own man and I could totes take anyone in a fight.”
Oh captain, my captain.
When he sat down, he took out his phone and threw on his headphones.
That’s when it began.
This guy was playing music so loudly that I could hear it over my own tunes. He had some cheap earphones that worked more like two concert speakers attached to his skull.
I took my own earphones off to make sure and yep, it was him, listening to what can only be described as a mix between speed metal and cat-torture (I’m more of a Bon Iver man myself, but each to his own I guess).
I turned my own music up and attempted to tune him out. As I sat back, I was wondering; how could he think it’s ok to subject everyone to this? How could the people around him, without their own music to listen to, sit there and put up with the horrible white noise?
Two women and another man sitting around me were clearly upset, shooting a number of quick, angry looks, but, they refused to say anything to this guy – no one thought to quietly ask him to turn it down. This went on for another 30 minutes and the music just got louder and more torturous. Every person in the carriage was exposed.
Why weren’t they saying anything? What was wrong with calmly letting this guy know he was making you uncomfortable? What were they afraid he would do on a packed, peak-hour train?
That’s when it dawned on me – the art of confrontation is dying, right here, right now on this very train.
Society has bred a population that avoids these things like the plague. We are a people filled with repressed anger. Why face a problem? It’s much easier to suffer in silence, then Facebook or Tweet your disgust and frustration right? That will solve everything!
When did we stop standing up for ourselves?
On the spot, while I was having this epiphany, I came up with a new law of physics – I called it Dom’s theory of confrontation.
If left unresolved, confrontation will gain momentum and mass the same way a rolling snow ball does. Confrontation will always grow or multiply into harder, more awkward, confronting moments – it’s science.
The thing you’re all avoiding, that you’re all so scared of – the confrontation – will become worse every time you shy away from it.
• Don’t confront your girlfriend about her crazy, awkward dancing? You’ll end up having to explain to your parents why your date accidentally broke your grandma’s leg at your brother’s wedding.
• Don’t confront your boyfriend about your relationship doubts? End up with an affair and a messy break up two years later.
• Don’t confront your friend about his iced coffee addiction? In 8 months time he’s unemployed on the streets, looking for his next hit.
In every case, if you don’t confront the problem at the first opportunity, it grows into something bigger for not just you, but also those you love.
So, with all of this in mind, I braced myself to face everything these people around me feared: An assault of anger, denial, rejection, ridicule and the chance of violence.
I was ready – my hands were already in secret karate mode. I had positioned my body so my vital organs were pointing away from a potential knife or concealed baseball bat.
I readied my fragile self esteem, waved and grabbed his attention. He took his earphones out and I sat there, ready to confront my fears…
Bravest man in the world: “Hey buddy, not sure if you’re aware, but your earphones are ridiculously loud. By the way, the guitar solo on that last track was missing a D-minor. Do you mind turning it down a bit?”
My fate was now in God’s hands…
Noise terrorist: “Shit, really? I’m so sorry mate, I’ve only had them for a little while and I had no idea. Guess that’s what I get for buying a $5 pair!”
I relaxed my hidden fists of fury, checked my body for stab wounds and I was clean! I’d done it!
Could it be that simple? Did I survive the dreaded confrontation?
Apparently so.
So, the next time you’re thinking about ways to avoid confrontation, remember my theory and the important lesson this guy passed on to me - Don’t buy the new cat torture album – it’s horrible.
