The Lost Art of Polite Conversation

So on the weekend me and my partner were invited to attend a house-warming party at the neighbour’s place next door.

I’m not really one for socialising to be honest, but went along for the sake of being, well,  “sociable.”

We have only known our new neighbours for a little while, and they seem quite nice, so it might’ve seemed a bit weird if we declined.

Anyhoo, they have just moved into a nice “sub-penthouse” apartment (the real estate agent terminology for the floor beneath the actual penthouse level) with nice views of the city.

They’re a  gay couple who have been together for thirty years, and despite their comfortable wealth, are nice and down to earth.

It was only a small group of about twelve, and as you do, we were all mingling and getting to know each other.

I’m not really comfortable with these sorts of things, but that’s just me.

Soon enough another couple arrived who I found to be refreshingly down-to earth, easy going and hilarious, as opposed to another couple of stuck-up elderly homosexuals who had lofty pretensions – one in tweed jacket, shirt and tie and his younger submissive Asian partner who both looked like they had walked off the set of Lord of The Manor.

You’re probably wondering what the point of this story is.  So here it is…

After an hour or so of this so-called “conviviality” one of the tweed twins piped up with something about “all these illegals arriving here” and how they are all “queue jumpers etc etc.”

TO BE A DRAMA QUEEN OR NOT TO BE A DRAMA QUEEN?

Everyone was reasonably quiet at this point, and I couldn’t tell whether this was an indication of acquiescence or politeness to not make a fuss in front of the hosts.

Given my impression of the people around me, I concluded that it was probably the former, and at this point I was fighting an inner turmoil as to whether I should say something, at the risk of appearing rude to the hosts, and potentially expressing  a view that was at odds with the prevailing mindset, or just remaining silent.

I was also concerned that there may be others in the room who may also disagree with him, but felt too intimidated to speak out.

This internal deliberation seemed to last several minutes but in reality it was probably just a few seconds.

AND THEN I LOST IT

“Howard managed to stop the boats,” he added as if to somehow suggest that only a conservative government has the solution to all of Australia’s so-called “problems”.

“I’m sorry but I’m not going to sit here and listen to this rubbish” I said.

“Firstly, there is nothing illegal about seeking asylum in Australia, it’s part of our obligations under the UNHCR convention.”

“To call them ‘illegals’ and ‘queue jumpers’’ is straight out of the Coalition handbook.’’

“Secondly, there is no queue. Australia isn’t Coles you know… When people are fleeing persecution and life threatening circumstances, it’s simply unrealistic to expect them to form an orderly queue as you put it..”

“But there’s projections that there could be one hundred thousand of them in a few years if we don’t do something now, and many of them have plenty of money when they can afford to pay  people smugglers $15000 to get to Australia” he interjected..

“So what,” I replied.  “You can fit 100,000 people into the MCG without any fuss whatsoever.”

“Australia is a vast country. We are one of the wealthiest countries in the world…Do you honestly  think that the population of the MCG spread across the breadth of Australia is anything to get worked up about?”

“Have you actually ever met any asylum seekers?” I asked.

“….” he replied.

“Well I have,” I said, “and they’re not “illegals” as you like to call them.”

“They’re real people who have nothing, and have risked everything they have to come here, including the very real chance that they could lose their own lives at sea, or the lives of their children.”

“Maybe if you actually met some, you might gain a better understanding of the real issues and their real suffering rather than just getting your comfortable middle-class opinions spoon fed from the Liberal Party.”

It was at this point I realised that I had probably gone a little too far.

I don’t think it was wrong to provide an opposing view to his perspective. Besides he brought it up in the first place.

However I didn’t really need to insult his so-called “intelligence.”

Maybe he does genuinely believe that there is a queue, and anyone who doesn’t get in line is illegal, but the language he used was remarkably consistent with the language employed by Scott Morrison and Tony Abbott.

Anyhow, by the time I had finished my tirade, I suspected that I had perhaps outstayed my welcome, and despite a couple of other people expressing an interest in my views, I could tell that the discussion had run its course.

And so we left shortly thereafter.

The tweed twins didn’t bother saying goodbye and neither did we.  I can’t imagine we’ll see them again and that will be a blessing.

Walking back to our place,  I apologised to my partner for my outburst saying that I couldn’t just sit there and say nothing in response to his bullshit.

“Because if no one says anything, that’s how these people go on to think that they’re opinions are right, when in fact they’re actually complete bullshit.”

Surprisingly he replied “I thought it was great!”

 What would you have done?