The Complimentary Tree Would Have A Lot More Friends

Wow, your dress is super cute! Those are words that have never been said to me since I am a man that wears pants. Those words are also a compliment. Everyone likes hearing a compliment. This is what I'm told by various "What to do on a first date" articles. Listen to what your date says, give them various compliments, hide the ether rag on the INSIDE coat pocket so they will not suspect any foul play. The problem with compliments is that I'm pretty sure no one knows how to react when they get a compliment. Unless you're an egotistical ass, many compliments feel awkward to respond to. "I like that shirt." "Thanks." And scene. I never know if there's something more to be said or if the other person wants you to expand on your amazing shirt collection from the clearance rack at Ross.

Oh look a Hugo "Bossy" shirt.

Compliments are really nice. They make you feel a lot better like you've done something with your life that other than eating a piece of cake off of a napkin with no utensils. Hands free device? My mouth. In fact this whole blog title is one big compliment. "Your Beard is Good." The place where I intelligently borrowed it from has a great scene in dealing with compliments and its slight weirdness. Let's take a look. LIGHTS.



All Bret says when receiving his compliment from Jemaine is "thank you." Obviously, that is the standard rebuttal to any compliment given. However, recently, anytime someone gives me a compliment I tend to clasp my hands together and do a mock bow to them. I don't know when exactly I started doing that, but since I'm so awkward around compliments I figured the best way to solve this problem is by treating everyone like they are a deity or the audience at the end of a High School version of "West Side Story."

A compliment? You really shouldn't have. *curtsey

The bigger issue is probably my own mental state when dealing with one of these kudos grenades. Could someone really be complimenting me on something about me? Sometimes it seems outlandish that I could have anything that someone would like. Then I realize that I am pretty prolific at RBI Baseball for Nintendo so I can see where they would have to tell me I rule. I also wear some pretty sweet ironic shirts and own some vintage knick knacks that could be classified as “nice”. Then I would bow. It's all a sick cycle that is really not that sick at all, but healthy cycle has not made America's Next Top Cliches yet.

Most compliments are easy to spot. You have nice eyes. I like those sneakers. Your hair smells like a combination of popcorn with extra butter and chocolate icing. There is one, however, that may be a compliment or may not be. It is the chameleon or "woman" in West Hollywood of the compliment world.

Have you lost weight?

While disguised as a question it could really be a way someone is commenting on your appearance. Is this a compliment? I do not know. Most people don't want to come out and say "Wow, you look great, lost a lot of weight there Tubby McGoo!" because no one is really named Tubby McGoo and the person wouldn't know you were referencing them. We would rather throw the question out there so if the person didn't lose weight we could have a follow up retort of "Oh, but you look good." At this point people start grasping for anything they can get their hands on. "Must be your new haircut. Oh, same haircut? Did you get a tan? You look...no? WELL YOU LOOK DIFFERENT TO ME OK?!!?!?"

The weight non compliment compliment is an interesting conundrum for us people that have lost weight. At first, I felt good about it since I worked hard to get this body sexified in a relative way to people that are truly sexy. Then I started thinking that I must have been a disgusting slob and no one said anything. No one! There are my friends! They waited until I lost weight to tell me I looked good. Did I not look good before? Was I shaming everyone's existence? Did I eat that last piece of pizza? YOU BET I DID. So when people ask me if I lost weight I say, "yes" and then silently move on. If it's my mother I get a 21 minute lecture on the health risks of weight loss because look at that "one in the movies that lost that weight."

Sinbad?

Don't get me wrong I like hearing how I great I am. If you would like to fill up my inbox with greatness messages I will gladly virtually bow to them. But if you ask me if I lost weight it may get awkward.

Just tell me my beard is good. It's a compliment.