The next time you’re out with a group of companions (preferably of diverse ages, cultures, or socioeconomic backgrounds), play this game I invented during my trip to India with my parents.
Here’s how the game works:
1. Find a time when a group decision has to be made on how to proceed next, when there are multiple choices at hand.
2. Make a rapid mental calculation and come up with every permutation of future action.
3. Identify the worst possible choice. Use whatever rational metric you use every day to figure out what to do – rationality, time, expense, effort, etc. This is your “worst outcome.”
4. Sit back, listen to the group discussion, and wait for a decision.
5. Score yourself based on the match between your group’s choice and your “worst outcome.”
6. Argue for your rational choice – or just give up.
I am awesome at this game. Almost every time I was able to predict what my parents and relatives wanted to do based on my analysis of the worst outcome. Apparently my view of how the world works is in no way coincident with whatever view they have.
Example 1: I wanted to get some blouses made from the tailor next door before leaving the next morning for Mumbai. Admittedly, this was poor planning on my part – if I’d known that the tailor lived in the next house, I would’ve commissioned the clothes a few days earlier, when I first came to Ahmedabad. But I didn’t know, and my auntie told me it would be no trouble, as long as we got the materials to the tailor as quickly as possible. So my mom, my auntie and I needed to get to the fabric store, make our choices, then head straight for the tailor first thing in the morning (in Ahmedabad, this is around 11 am) so I could pick up the clothes in the evening. My father and his best friend wanted to take a walk around the campus of the local university they attended during the last Ice Age. However, the family’s cook was supposed to come by and make the meals for the day, and she wouldn’t come into the house if no one was there. So who should stay in the house and wait for the 20 minutes until the cook came?
[Take your time now to complete steps 2 and 3 above.]
Needless to say, the men decided that what we wanted to do wasn’t important, and they had to leave straight away for their stroll down memory lane. When we protested – pointing out the time sensitivity of our chores – a huge discussion ensued, with hand waving, multilingual yelling, and the men insisting on telling the cook (who has no mobile, and can’t read) just not to come. Because the men, naturally, were totally willing to pick up the cooking slack and make sure everything would be fine for the rest of the day.
Ahem. That last bit was sarcasm. Of course we women greeted their ridiculous proposition with mental asides on whether the men actually knew where the kitchen was.
My auntie finally resolved the impasse by wordlessly loading my mother and me into the car and driving away. Problem solved. We got the fabric to the tailor, the cook came on time, my dad and his friend took their walk, and I got my blouses. So what the hell was the BFD??
Example 2: My mom had forgotten her cell phone in the hotel in Mumbai, so I called, found the phone, and arranged to pick up the phone on the way back from the airport to my uncle’s flat, which is 5 minutes from the hotel. When I announced this to the group, well of course a huge discussion ensued.
[Take your time now to complete steps 2 and 3 above.]
My father decided to leave the airport, load all the luggage into the taxi, drive to my uncle’s flat, unload all the luggage and take it upstairs, relax in the flat, then find a second taxi, drive to the hotel and pick up the phone, find a third taxi, then return to the flat.
My solution? Stop at the hotel on the way to the flat, pick up the phone, and continue to my uncle’s place. One taxi, one fare, one trip, one 10-minute detour.
This time, I did step 6 by arguing. I managed to get an “agreement” – but then when it took the hotel awhile to bring the phone, my dad decided to leave my mom and me at the hotel and come back later because – and I’m not joking – the chocolate in his bag was melting. I endured a long discourse on my mental incompetency - and then, of course, 2 minutes after my dad left, the phone showed up. So my mom and I stood around on the street in Mumbai in 90 degree heat for half and hour while my uncle moved all the bags and came back for us. To add insult to injury, if I’d been 2 cm windward on the sidewalk, I would’ve been shat on by at least one pigeon.
I totally don’t understand how I came to this point. When did this break occur? Am I completely insane? Or is everyone else thoroughly nuts?
