Chapter 2: "Awkward"

When I moved to the UK directly after a global pandemic, I knew there were going to be some learning curves. The metric system. Driving on the other side of the road. The accent and particular dialect of southern England.

But what I didn't expect was the massive difference between our treatments of awkwardness.

Maybe it's just where I was raised in the south (Nashville, TN to be exact) but we thrive on making people feel comfortable, welcomed, part-of-the-family so to speak. This is definitely on a spectrum, to be sure. But qualities of hospitality, charisma, and friendliness are highly lauded where I'm from. My parents and sister are naturally gifted in this way. They light up a room.

I was naturally gifted with the desire to make people feel comfortable and welcomed, but the words and gestures had to be learned. When I was nine years old, I vividly remember turning to a girl in my class, wanting to introduce myself and get to know her better, but my mind was an endless white spread of nothing. No prompts, no ideas. Literally a blank slate.

After that, I became a student of conversation. And I realized there was a sort of music to it. Good thing, because music analogies made it more intuitive for me. I used what I knew to better understand the rhythm and call-and-response quality to good repartee. There were places for solo instruments and places for group choruses. Different melodies and pitches to evoke emotion vs. sarcasm. Places to echo a good point or look for a counterpoint. I found I loved finding counterpoints and ways to encourage others. And if my brain still turned into that blank slate or I didn't feel comfortable sharing about myself (which was most times see Chapter 1: Hero Is a-Slitherin'), I became a master at the follow-up question.

Keep people talking about what interests them and very rarely will they feel awkward.

In this way, the awkwardness that used to exude from me like an odor, began to disappear. It became my mission to kill it, for myself and those around me, whenever it was within my power.

In the UK, especially in the south of England, avoiding awkwardness is not at all a concern.

At all.

To clarify, the Brits I got to know don't like awkwardness--in fact, it gives many of them anxiety too--but they don't try to avoid it in the same way many Americans do.

This was troubling to me. It felt equivalent to singing off-pitch or out of time.

There were two scenarios that recurred often when I tried to strike up a conversation. First, I'd ask a direct question to someone, and it would be met with a blank stare and maybe some sputtered muttering. Or second, they would light up as if no one had ever asked them a question about themselves and proceed to spill their deepest trauma and life story. Either way, I was left off-kilter and fumbling for follow-up questions.

The first few months were a bit of a struggle on this front.

While I was doing my masters in Chichester, I was studying acting. My biggest question was, why did their technique seem so much more authentic and real - raw - than American productions. Ironically, my resounding conclusion was the amount of awkwardness they allowed to stay in the script. This style was a large reason why The Office (US) was so polarizing and yet so resonate (and it was even toned down from the UK version!). Americans are used to perfectly-timed banter, picturesque settings, quaffed people, tableaus that could never exist in reality.

It's beautiful...but you can't connect with it.

So eventually, I decided to let go of my death-grip on non-awkwardness. At least a bit.

Because life is full of awkwardness. It's a necessary plot point.

We shouldn't gloss over it all the time.

Moreover, the Brits inadvertently taught me that being comfortable with someone is earned; it is not something assumed from the outset of meeting.

I also realized during my time in London especially that there were some people I didn't want to make comfortable. If someone said or did something out of pocket, they needed conversational consequences.

So leaving someone in the "awkwardness they had created" became a powerful tool in getting my disapproval across. Especially when it came to dating. For instance, this one guy made a sexual joke (maybe?) that was delivered just poorly enough to be offensive, and I decided after dancing for an hour around awkward landmines that I was not going to let him off easy. So as soon as I registered his comment, all emotion dropped from my face, and I turned to face forward on the bench we were sitting, staring at the magpies flying overhead. Saying nothing.

We sat in silence for a full minute, maybe more. He sighed into his hands several times.

I've legitimately never felt more powerful.

So why does my song "Awkward" appear on an album called The Villain? Because this dance around awkwardness might make everyone feel like your friend, like you're in a movie where everyone gets along...but sometimes conflict and the awkwardness that results is warranted.

And being able to withstand awkwardness is a truly powerful thing.

Stream "Awkward": https://ffm.to/talon-david-awkwarddd

Watch official music video: https://youtu.be/3Uyf__pawbw?si=q43inWcUfcTmhewt