It’s atypical to take a vow of silence on a NYC evening, but mum was the word one recent Friday night while out on the town. I hosted an unusual and entertaining silent dinner at Bar Six, a French bistro in the heart of Greenwich Village.
My guests included three friends, Jen, Michelle and Mary Beth. We had reviewed the menu prior to going as to avoid our usual chitchat and lolly-gagging about what we’d eat and drink. For the table, we ordered a bottle of bubbles, an arugula salad and steak frites.
The rules of our silent dinner were simple and after our order was placed I informed the waitress of our plan. She smiled, shrugged her shoulders and said, “This is NYC. I see it all”. I then said, “Ready, Set, Action,” which immediately provoked an onset of “the giggles” from everyone, but I couldn’t say “Cut”. We wiped our tears of laughter away with our cloth napkins. I thought, I couldn’t lose it… I must stay centered . Thankfully soon thereafter our giggles dissipated and we became astute observers. I noticed mundane activities like our waitress diligently polishing the ketchup bottle. It was as if I called out “Action” and she became an actor in our silent dinner. She was slender; with a pageboy hair cut and wore a string of pearls, red lipstick and all black. Oh so NYC. She kept our flutes filled with bubbles, and gracefully served her other more loquacious guests. I think she enjoyed her cameo in my “Silent Short — Mum’s the Word.”
We found that people didn’t really notice us; they were caught up in their own moments. The guy that sat next to our table kept telling his date that he was a “bad ass.” I wanted to tell her — run the other way. Another gal, across the way was talking about how much she loved puppies but didn’t like dogs, — clearly — very deep conversations. I am sure if we had talked we would have discussed Michelle’s fabulous red dress, my new Dior lip-gloss or perhaps the very entertaining 2016 elections. The noise level was like a bunch of musicians trying to make a hit record with the background music of garbage trucks, loud talkers, taxi horns, radio music, and a variety of dings of a texting. There was no harmony, just insolent noise that drowned the thoughts in my head. I was so tuned into the noise level that I forgot to taste my food.
Other customers had their private moments of small talk and we had our large moments of silence. The four of us, in our silence, connected profoundly by laughter and busied ourselves by keeping our mascara from running down our faces. We experienced our own silent short skit comedy show about the well-polished bottle of Heinz 57. Michelle gave it her best Chuck Norris karate chop and to no avail, no ketchup released for our fries. We passed the bottle around like we were playing “Pass the Potato”. Each of us gave our best attempt to get some ketchup for our eagerly awaited “fry dipping”. The anticipation to eat our fries was just as much a part of our entertainment as the streams of wind from the air conditioner that continued to blow the red velvet curtain around Mary Beth’s neck in near strangulation. At that moment, in unison we realized how cool it was to slow down and enjoy our silent laughter. I noticed how much I indulged and enjoyed in our laughter instead of focusing on tasting my flavorful food.
We left Bar Six in continued silence. It all ended when we hit the corner of 6th Avenue and 10th Street. We couldn’t contain ourselves any longer! We busted out in cackles of laughter and spewed our streams of thoughts. It was unanimous that we had enjoyed our silence. The ebb and flow of “the giggles” was our own special melody; nobody else heard nor noticed. Our evening wasn’t about deep inner listening but about a “moment” of maintained stillness in an environment of unsupported stillness.
When on a silent retreat the environment supports listening to inner dialogue and typically, NYC’s environment drowns out the inner voice. Stillness in NYC may be hard to find but for a giggling good time try a silent dinner out on the town with your friends.
TL's Moments 