dogs bark, and so do white men

Two small dogs are in the coffee shop, and they meet. As they meet, they bark. Their barks are loud and somewhat piercing, and the owners are trying to soothe them as they sniff each other, knowing that they are in a public space and that too many of those ear-pinching barks can get annoying. After a little while, the dogs settle down, as what usually happens after they become more comfortable with the other animal.

Having dogs in this coffee shop is part of our charm. We are attached to a dog park. People love bringing their dogs in and giving them treats that we have here in our little white tin sitting on the bookshelf while they order a coffee. The two years I’ve worked here, it hasn’t been a problem.

Until today.

He emerged from the library, a seemingly 30-something year old white man. He was wearing a brand new Park City beanie, so to me it seemed as though he was probably a tourist, though I couldn’t be sure.

He looked around the shop, then walked up to me, anger in his eyes.

“Can we get these dogs to stop barking?” He addressed me directly, the annoyance present in his voice, his finger pointed at me. And I, being used to men being angry with me, became the chameleon, knowing there was a very particular way I had to handle him. I braced myself before I spoke.

“Oh, we’re attached to a dog park, dogs come in here all the time. They’re allowed in here. The owners come in for a few minutes with them, and then they leave.” I explained to him calmly.

“Yeah, well, they’re loud. I talked to the people at the front desk and they said there was nothing they could do about it. It’s a disruption, and not just to me, but to everybody! They just keep barking! It is ruining my day! Do something about it now.” I noticed he was starting to escalate, as he clearly had wanted to convince me somehow to remove all the dogs from the room. I could feel my body begin to shake, scared at what the man might do to me if he didn’t get his way, as he started inching closer to me and raising his voice.

But since I know these insecure types well, and am somewhat skilled in de-escalation, I thought about how best to handle the situation. I know people like him just need to express their suppressed feelings, and that one-upping them in authority rarely ever works in these scenarios, and only makes them more violent, and so I acted quickly.

“Thank you for expressing your feelings, they are valid. I appreciate you sharing that with us.” I said to him kindly, a slight shake in my voice.

He stepped back, caught off guard, because he expected to keep fighting.

“Uh, well, yeah, you’re welcome. People are afraid to speak up about these things and so I needed to say something, for everybody, because everyone is being bothered by these dogs.”

Though I knew he was overgeneralizing, and still being aggressive and only focusing on how the dogs were affecting him, I knew what I said had started to work. He was starting to feel heard. I continued with my plan.

“And everyone is allowed to their opinion and we will take into consideration what you’ve shared with us. Thank you so much for saying something.”

At this, with his face scrunched, he nodded, anger no longer in his voice as he said, “Yeah, well, thanks,” and turned around to head back into the library.

I stood there shaking afterwards, one of my employees walking up to me, noticing the exchange.

“Are you okay? That man was scary! What did he say?” He looked at me curiously.

“Oh nothing, he was just annoyed by the dogs,” I replied.

The book I read a year ago came to mind, “Rapport: The Four Ways to Read People.”

“He went T-Rex, and I went mouse. Works like a charm.”

I smiled at my inner secrets. He walked away thinking he won the conversation, and so did I. But he won the ego side, and I won the emotional mastery side.

“It’s not about winning, or being right,” I thought to myself, cuddling my dog closely in my arms. “it’s about safety, and building connection.”