Tea solves awkwardness

"I have a tendency in life to make awkward situations even more awkward."--Mike Birbiglia

There are many reasons to love tea.  It seems to do whatever I need it to do.  It wakes me up when I need to wake up.  It calms me down when I need to calm down. Some teas can warm you up, and others can cool you down. One thing I have learned from the British is that tea fills awkward moments.  There doesn't seem to be a social situation in this country that couldn't involve tea.  It's not that they drink tea constantly, or that I've even been drinking it all that frequently here, but I am amazed at how well it facilitates conversation.

Last summer, I was at a post-exam party in London with two physics teachers (Alom and Ronan) and their A-level students.  I had found Alom literally by Googling "physics teacher London" to see what came up.  A few months later, I was helping set the table while he and Ronan prepared the food.  The minute I started to feel like I was crashing a private party, they brewed up some tea.  When you've shared tea, you're no longer a stranger.  The party involved lots of conversations all around, and after several hours, after we've exhausted our supply of conversation topics, the party wound down and the kids went home.  I figured it was time for me to go, as well, but then Ronan and Jane (his wife) bring in more tea.  The conversation flowed freely again.  There began my first friendships in what would a year later be my new home.

I applied this lesson to my classroom. I decided to put a coffee urn with just water and no coffee in the back of my room.  If my students wanted to bring in a mug and their own tea or instant coffee, I would supply the hot water and sugar, and they could always feel free to grab a cup.  It took very little effort on my part, but it relaxed several students immensely.  Before opening night of the winter student director showcase, I brought the stress balls that were my student directors and broke out the good British stuff, Whittard.  Soon enough, everyone was calmly sipping, casually talking, and naturally smiling.

But my best tea story happened in the middle of the night when four drunk girls I didn't know were on my couch.  Last year in Annapolis, at about 2am Saturday morning, I get a phone call from Jessy Sammons.  She tells me that she has been partying downtown with several friends from out of town.  She didn't drink too much, so she had gone home earlier.  Her friends, however, were more than a little drunk and needed a place to crash. Also, they needed to be picked up.  For Jessy, I do these things.  So, after talking with one of the girls, I headed downtown, was met with confused looks, reminded them that they called me, and drove them home. I'm sure there are men who have wonderful, charming things they can say when they bring home four beautiful women dressed to impress, but I am not one of those men.  All four of them sat on my couch giving me a look that beautifully combined "What now?" with "I hope you don't think there's an orgy in your future."  So, I put the kettle on and said "Would anyone like a cup of tea?  I have the good stuff from London."  To my surprise, everyone said yes.  Once I served the tea, I put out cookies from the Amish market, and that sealed the deal.  From that point on, conversation flowed freely.  Life stories were shared, jokes were told, and good times were had by all.  Everyone went to sleep with a smile.  All thanks to Whittard tea.

In the morning, I had to drive them back to their car.  It's 8:00, people are out jogging, and I'm walking out of my building surrounded by four beautiful women in evening wear.  As I take them to my car, one of my neighbors walking her dog stared at me as she passed.  As I started the car, I said, "Ladies, thank you for that moment.  I looked awesome just now."