Dear Uptight Seattleite,

When they want to express agreement with something you just said, a lot of people say, “Yeah, no…” Why?

Prosthetic Limb-Making Julie

Dear Julie,

My intern Deb was an elective mute as a child. That means she couldn’t bring herself to talk in certain situations. Like at school. Once when she was accused of something she didn’t do, all she did was cry. It turned out OK, since she grew up to be such a successful human being, but the picture of a wordless, teary child is a pretty sad one. By contrast, the “yeah, no” people are so full of words they’re practically turning in circles. They’re going west to get east and east to get west. Yeah, they agree with you, and no, they couldn’t agree with you more. The only thing they’re guilty of is having an overabundance of communicative health. Do you want to chastise them for this? I’m not chastising you, Julie, just trying to understand. And practicing a bit of what I learned from a recent Compassionate Listening seminar. The facilitators were pretty nice, though the compassion of their listening seemed to run out when I broke out my trusty red dry-erase marker to make a few friendly corrections to their five core practices. Sorry, but I don’t think suspend judgment and listen with the heart are two distinct precepts.

Dear Uptight Seattleite,

I’m as Seattle as they come, but I have to disagree with your characterization of car horns as “loud, oppressive, and disapproving” (August 26). You asked the reader if he ever stopped to think about the honkee’s feelings of alarm and invalidation. My answer to that is yes, but I honk anyway. Distracted drivers have forgotten the line of people behind them—all with important places to go—who are waiting for them to wrap up their extra-vehicular activities and start driving. I think of a short honk less as a tool of oppression and more as an opportunity to build awareness in other drivers of their shared responsibility to all road users. It’s not “Not OK! Not OK!”, but “Pardon me, but the group of people sharing this resource with you would appreciate it if you would embrace your small share of responsibility for community mobility.”

Honking for Harmony

Dear Honking,

I apologize for you not understanding what I meant. What you describe isn’t honking at all. It’s quiet honking, or quonking. If the car ahead of you has been sitting at a green light for longer than a slow count to 10, it is indeed acceptable to quonk. The technique involved can be tricky, though. Don’t tentatively push the horn with your fingertips; this is likely to result in exactly the rude blaring you’re trying to avoid. A proper quonk—no longer than a nanosecond in length—can be achieved only by chopping decisively with the flat of your hand. Gep! Repeat at 20-second intervals as necessary.

Dear Uptight Seattleite,

You know that feeling you have on the first day of your job, where you don’t really have enough work to do and you aren’t really sure what you’re supposed to be doing anyway, and people aren’t really sure who you are or why you were hired, and you think to yourself, “I’d better enjoy this while it lasts, because four months from now I’ll be swamped.” Well, it’s been at least four months since I started my job, and I still have that first-day feeling.

Worker Dee

Dear Dee,

Being a freewheelin’ type, I’m not exactly an expert on the corporate workplace. But one thing I do know is that it’s best to look busy. One way to do this is to talk loud when you’re on the phone. Be sure also to demonstrate an informal, joshing relationship with the person on the other end of the line. Ask them “Are you guys as crazy over there as we are over here?” When you go to the printer, walk briskly and pass as many people as possible. Always carry a laptop or notebook. Talk to yourself constantly, saying things like “OK, so THAT’S done, what’s next?” Have an answer ready in case someone asks “What are you working on?” When your boss or anyone else above you talks, take notes, or at least pretend to. When someone at your own level talks, hold up a finger to show you need to finish writing down an important thought before you can listen. Also, ask the HR lady about her dog, and always carry your own dry-erase marker.