Conflicted, my inner monologue began reeling through the positives and negatives of interrupting our conversation to inform her that green stuff was wedged in her teeth. But how to broach the subject with the least amount of embarrassment and some semblance of class? Is it even possible?
"Excuse me Miss, I simply wish to inform you that a barely noticeable smidgeon of spinach seems to have lost its way and has temporarily rested betwixt your teeth." While certainly full of class, too formal for a cafeteria.
"Hey, I dunno if any one told you this, but you've got green gunk all up in yo' mouth. Might wanna get it out before it starts growing." Certainly less formal, but that approach seemed too brusque and certainly lacks anything resembling class.
After my eyes became noticeably fixed on her mouth, I interrupted, "I agree, that is ironic. Oh, you seem to have a little something in your teeth." There, that was easy enough. In a moment she would clear her teeth and the pleasant lunchroom conversation would continue. Except that she could not clear her teeth. The spinach - I was confident at this point that it was spinach - was so firmly lodged that two tongue swipes were useless. She quickly picked up a napkin and proceeded to rub her teeth in a last-ditch attempt to scrub away the leafy intruder. As she looked around the table to see if she had gotten rid of the green menace, people started to chime in tips and tricks.
"Try going in a circular motion!"
"Maybe if you come down and make more of a triangle, or really a cone."
"I do more of a pincer movement, that always does it."
As her polite smile faded into panic she began to rub the napkin up and down in an increasingly frantic motion.
"You know what? I'll just go to the bathroom." As she got up from the table, she looked back at me with her hand over her mouth and said with big brown eyes, "Thanks for telling me."
When she returned to the table, spinach-less, the once vibrant conversation had died, and a silent pall loomed over the table for the rest of the meal.
In theory, people respect it when you give an honest appraisal, especially if you prevent them from inadvertently looking silly. After a dozen or so incidents like the one described, I have grown more and more reserved. As horrible as it is to get home after a long day and find out that there might have been something on your teeth during lunch, seminar and precept, it seems just as bad to confront someone.
For that exact reason, I have always demanded that my friends tell me when I have sat in something or have fuzzies in my hair, but it does not seem that others have made the same compact.
I once told my sister that there was a rip in her skirt, and she responded, "Why do you have to be such a jerk?" We clearly did not have the same understanding of politeness. I figured that anyone would want to know if they were half-naked, but apparently that type of honesty is reserved for certain people and specific occasions.
If I were less obnoxious and prying, I would silently stare at their salad-covered mouths and torn pants. Instead I have been cursed with a sharp eye and loud mouth.
How is one supposed to know when you have entered that elite group of people who can point out minor flaws and accidental flubs? For all my ability to observe errors, I guess I have not developed the skill to figure out when I should say something. But can I really blame anyone? Who likes being told about their imperfections? Confronting people about their problems is and probably always will be a dangerous task, especially if honestly discussing problems is awkward for all parties involved. I guess the only thing people hate more than gunk in their teeth is knowing that they have gunk in their teeth.
So the next time my professor uses a toiletry bag as a snack container or when the girl next to me takes her pencil out of a toothbrush holder labeled ‘Crest' I will keep my mouth shut and hope I do not have anything in my teeth.
Michael Collins is a sophomore from Glastonbury, Conn., and can be reached at mjcollin@princeton.edu.
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