Tuesday evening at a favorite restaurant. Primetime for the I haven't seen you in ages crowd. Being seasoned veterans of the dinner rush, we arrived early enough to secure a table near the entrance. What we lacked in ambiance, we made up for in entertainment value. Front row seats to the human comedy that unfolds nightly in the waiting area.
D. K. Wall:That night's focus, a quartet of adults in their mid fifties, already deep in conversation despite having just arrived. They laughed with the simple comfort of people who had long ago stopped trying to impress each other and moved on to simply enjoying one another's company. Old friends? Family? The actual nature of their relationship eluded me, of course, but that has never stopped my overactive imagination from filling in the details.
D. K. Wall:They touched in an intimately familiar way that signified closeness, a hand on someone's arm, a playful slap on the back, the casual invasion of personal space that says, I've known you long enough to know your boundaries, and I choose to ignore them.
D. K. Wall:The men wore the suburban uniform of casual affluence. Crisp khakis, perhaps fresh from a round of golf, paired with tucked in dress shirts that strained slightly around their midsections, evidence of many previous dinners at establishments just like this one.
D. K. Wall:The women were clad in sensible slacks, silk blouses, and what I call comfortable jewelry. Pieces expensive enough to signal success, but practical enough to survive a spontaneous grandchild tackle.
D. K. Wall:They looked like a foursome intimate with extensive wine list, craft beer selections, and aged scotch. Before they could order their drinks, though, they needed to wait for their table for six. Clearly already swimming in their high dopamine pool of familiarity, they didn't seem to mind the delay for the straggling couple.
D. K. Wall:The front door swung open. In walked a pair half their age, early twenties, fresh faced, radiating with a special glow of young love. The waiting foursome's faces brightened as if someone had flipped a switch, and they called out hearty greetings that turned heads throughout the waiting area.
D. K. Wall:The young woman beamed at the reception. She spread her arms wide and rushed toward the older quartet like a golden retriever returning from a romp in the park. They engulfed her in a multi person pile on that defied the laws of physics and personal space. Much cooing emanated from the rocking huddle, a display of genuine unbridled affection. Kisses landed on cheeks. Robust hugs were exchanged and re exchanged. Arms nestled in arms.
D. K. Wall:But the young woman's plus one? He looked considerably less sure about the whole situation. He stood on the fringe, hesitant in his approach, as if he had wandered into a foreign country whose customs he had only read about in guidebooks. A piece of the puzzle fell into place for me.
D. K. Wall:They were newlyweds or perhaps engaged to be married, maybe just in a serious relationship. Whatever the connection, these were clearly her people. Parents probably, perhaps an aunt and uncle or the parents' best friends who had achieved honorary family status. Maybe a modern blended family, divorced and remarried, still friends all. However, they were related. They shared one unmistakable common trait.
D. K. Wall:They were huggers, touchers, people who thrived on physical closeness, who communicated love through embrace, who probably couldn't give directions without laying a hand on a shoulder. And the young man was decidedly, emphatically, catastrophically not. He was a non hugger, merging his way into a hugging clan.
D. K. Wall:Oh, he was trying. You had to give him credit for that. He stood his ground rather than flee for the exit, but remained carefully, calculatedly out of reach. His eyes darted toward the hostess stand with naked hope. Perhaps their name would be called. Perhaps they would head for their table before contact was made. Perhaps the fire alarm would go off.
D. K. Wall:Alas, none of these mercies materialized in time. The father figure in the group finally spied his prey. He was a large man, tall, beefy, and athletic in the way of former college linebackers who now coached youth soccer with perhaps too much intensity.
D. K. Wall:At a backyard barbecue, this was clearly the official keeper of the grill, the broiler of meats, the provider of proteins, the man who said things like, let it rest, and that's a nice char. The touch of gray in his hair added sophistication. The breadth of his shoulders added inevitability.
D. K. Wall:To the young man, however, his bulk spelled doom. The big man threw his arms wide, flashed pearly white teeth in a grin of genuine delight, and advanced with the apparent intention of smothering the smaller man in a heartfelt bear hug. There was no malice in it, only enthusiasm, which was somehow worse.
D. K. Wall:The young man did his best. He really did. He attempted to smile, though the result looked more like a man passing a kidney stone. He raised his arms in a slow jerky fashion, something like the lifting of a rusted drawbridge, mechanical, reluctant, and making concerning squeaking sounds along the way.
D. K. Wall:Then contact. Engulfed in a smothering of arms, the young man's spine solidified into a plank of mahogany. While the larger man pounded his back in genuine affection, each thump likely leaving a bruise on skin not used to thumping, the young man's arms hovered uselessly in the air. Fingers splayed like startled starfish, patting at nothing in particular. He looked like someone trying to hug a cloud and failing.
D. K. Wall:When finally released from the grip, the young man stepped back staggering slightly as if he had just stepped off a carnival ride. Relief spread across his face. He had survived first contact, but it wasn't over. Oh, sweet naive boy. It wasn't nearly over.
D. K. Wall:Here's the thing about marrying into a family of huggers. One hug is never enough. Once you've been hugged, you're in the system. You're being passed around like a collection plate during a revival, and everyone feels obligated to contribute.
D. K. Wall:One of the women, perhaps the wife of the enthusiastic first greeter, approached with arms already spreading. The young man desperately grabbed his girlfriend's coat in what he probably hoped looked like chivalry. Here, honey. Let me hold that, he stammered, clutching the wool coat to his chest like a bulletproof vest.
D. K. Wall:A valiant effort, a noble strategy, but the woman was a hugger, and she would not be denied. Oh, you sweet thing, she cried, either oblivious to his discomfort or simply dismissing it. She pressed into him, crushing the coat between them, wrapped her arms around the entire wool bundle, and squeezed with determination.
D. K. Wall:The young man's face turned a fascinating shade of crimson as he gasped for air, trapped in a muffled purgatory of human contact.
D. K. Wall:Each subsequent embrace followed the same pattern, excitedly given, regretfully received. A hug from the second man, a follow-up squeeze from the second woman, a group hug that materialized out of nowhere like a flash mob of affection.
D. K. Wall:By the time the hostess finally called their name, at which point the young man's expression had progressed from uncomfortable through resigned to something approaching medically dissociative. He had been embraced, squeezed, patted, and compressed so many times that he could have hugged a perfect stranger and not known the difference.
D. K. Wall:As the party of six filed past our table toward the back of the restaurant, I watched the young man shuffle along, his girlfriend's coat still clutched to his chest, his hair slightly askew, his eyes holding the thousand yard stare of a man who had seen things.
D. K. Wall:His bride to be squeezed his hand and gave him a sympathetic look that clearly said, I know baby, but there is nothing I can do. I raised my wine glass in a silent toast to the young man now disappearing around the corner toward his table where I was certain more hugging awaited over appetizers, entrees, and especially dessert. Welcome to the family, young man.