One of the hardest things I have found about transitioning to the Left Coast life is that everyone seems way more literal here.

I was warned when I got here by the Dutch girlfriend of one of M.’s old friends that my direct manner of speaking might be at issue, as it had been for her. She’s also quick, funny and outspoken.

I think part of the problem isn’t the directness, but the fact that when channelled through a literal filter some comments just drop into a weird abyss of effrontery. Take an exchange yesterday with my new boss, who is rather direct herself and assures me prefers that to a more roundabout manner.

First, I should explain that there’s a certain amount of contact with public officials and figures from my little phone filtering desk. And, there’s a certain amount of discretion and protocol required, such as figuring out that former elected officials still get addressed as “Honorable” if you send them mail, and who works for which philanthropy named after a long-dead, robber-baron industrialist or more recent tech entrepreneur. That I’m no stranger to flipping through on-line versions of the NY Times, Washington Post, various magazines or Wonkette doesn’t hurt.

So one such figure of import or note or at least written about in the Times kind of guy had left the boss some voicemail. She was jokingly referring to its cryptic, halting, “Um, well, I guess if you could call me back…” nature. She was on a bit of a role joking about it and speculating on what he wanted.

To my ear, what she had described was logically, given some background news indeed written about in the Times, employment related. Politics has a whole lot of flow on the who’s in and who’s out obviously.

What I joked back, though, because it also parallels the uncertain, humble delivery described, was “Maybe he wants to ask you out.”

I thought it was clearly absurd and obviously meant jokingly, riffing off of what she had said. But, moments later, as the conversation screeched to a painful halt, where she followed up with “Do you know how old he is? And, he has a wife,” I realized the errors of my ways. I responded pathetically, “Um, yeah, I didn’t literally mean “ask you out,” it’s just, you know, um, like a teenager on the phone, leaving a message, to like a girl…”

Argh.

Now I know what was meant, which I never understood, when people talked about British TV shows or specifically Monty Python or John Cleese, as a “different” kind of comedy. Sarcasm, irony and absurdity were the conversational styles preferred in my childhood home, so I always “got” the Brits. And, my mother loved that shit, feeling right at home watching barb-y or absurd conversation.

I guess it’s different, because there’s a whole chunk of the US that just doesn’t get it.