If you say it again, I’ll slap you!

Allow me to rant about word loops. (Or don’t, and just wait for my next blog post.) Word loops are like Fruit Loops in that they are equally cloying. That is the beginning and end of how they are like Fruit Loops. They don’t even turn your milk a different color. What we’re talking about are words that people use and overuse to the point that they become meaningless. And annoying.

What inspired this was a dinner with friends. It was a lovely summer evening, and the six of us were sitting out by the manicured lawn of the friends’ country club (where I’m not a member) overlooking the Wasatch mountains. There was a light breeze, and we were all feeling lucky to be back in each other’s company after a long absence. 

Cue our server.

A lovely young woman in her early 20s explained the specials and asked if we had any questions about the menu.Nope. We were ready to order. And not to ruin a potential surprise here, but all but one of the six of us had decided on the fish special. 

After the first order was placed, our server said, “Amazing!” It seemed an odd response, but I let it go. 

Next order up: “I’ll have the fish special as well.”

Response: “Amazing.”

“Really? Is it?” I asked this under my breath, as I do have some decorum. Well, at least I did.

Round the table it went. With every order, we got a new and equally enthusiastic “Amazing” from this woman. By the fourth “Amazing,” we couldn’t help but laugh and ask, “Is it?”

But seriously, how amazing could these orders be? Seared ahi in a green Thai curry over rice noodles and julienned veggies is literally printed on the menu. How can you possibly be amazed that someone would order it? My next thought: Wait. Let me light a match. You’re gonna be so amazed as to lose your effing mind. Think: That scene from Frankenstein.

To quote Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride: “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

Anyway, we all had the AMAZING seared ahi, and the ultimate result is we too are stuck in her word loop. Now, any time one of us does something, or points something out, someone else in the group will inevitably say, “Amazing.”

I wanted to pull the waitperson aside and say, “I’m going to give you a little present.” Then explain to her how she is coming across and how her extreme overuse of this word will not be serving her well in life. But I was with friends who I rarely get to see and chose not to leave their company.

And who would actually say such a thing to someone anyway? I would. And I have. Oh yes. Years ago, I was finishing a freelancing job at an advertising agency in Los Angeles. One of the account reps I’d been working with, a woman with an MBA, would constantly use the word, “Anyways.” Not, “Anyway.” Anyways. With a big old “S” on its ass. And of course, this is not even a word.

She came over to my office to say goodbye and wish me well. I thanked her and said I’d like to leave her with a fabulous parting gift. Then, as diplomatically as possible, I pointed out that there is, in fact, no “s” on the end of anyway. And that she will appear even more intelligent in meetings if she makes that small correction.

Did she leave in a huff? Call me a pompous ass? Spit in my face? No. None of the above. She thanked me profusely for saying something. From that moment forward, she would be using the word less. And when she did use it, she would be using it correctly instead of in its bastardized sub-MBA form. 

All too often, we complain about how someone does something. But if no one is willing to step up to the plate, take one for the team, and point out their misstep to them, how can we expect them to change?

Years ago, I’d been on a business call with Mr. Parker. Our offices were right next to each other. At one point on the call while I was talking, he quietly came into my office and slipped a note in front of me. On the note was a mere two-letter word: “Um.” Apparently, I’d been saying it repeatedly. Even with this pointed out to me, it was work to break the pattern by simply pausing instead of filling the air with this meaningless sound. Thank you, Mr. Parker.

Pause.

Lately, I’ve noticed people stuck in a “plus” loop. That means adding the word “plus” after everything numerical. I can only assume it’s an effort to be more accurate. But after repeated use, it can become meaningless. “I ran 10-plus miles.” “He worked there for 12-plus years.” "We waited 17-plus hours."

The “plus” has its place—say, in financial details  Example: "She earned,5-plus million in two years." But when it shows up everywhere, I say, no. “I ate ten-plus Oreos.” Just say you ate a dozen Oreos. We all know you Hoovered that entire sleeve of cookies.

To which I would say, “Amazing!”
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