The Lady with the Mismatched Facial Expressions

One of the most important aspects of conversation is reading facial expressions. These allow us to interpret the flow of a conversation, the other person's feelings and their reactions to what we say. In fact, it's not unheard of to hold entire exchanges solely through the power of facial expressions. But what happens when these physical cues go awry?

The other day I was in the department and I ran into a lady who I had met some time earlier at a job seminar. We spoke briefly there, as she is also studying in the same department as I am, and I remember I was quite taken aback by out chat. Mind you, nothing out of the ordinary was said by either of us and the conversation stayed within the realms of general chit-chat. But when I would try to make a joke or lighten the mood my remarks were always met with a raised eyebrow and a dubious glance, making me feel that I had said something offensive...or so I thought.

But on closer inspection, meaning after my second encounter with the lady, I surmised that I had been the victim of mismatched facial expressions. When I encountered these suspect glances for the second time, I used the lady's dialogue to gather that she had never found my talk objectionable. Rather, it seems that she simply does not coordinate her thoughts and reactions with her facial expressions in any sort of familiar way. So when I say something to the effect of "oh yes I've been looking for a job too, it's just such a hinderance that I all of my qualifications are in history," her response, similar to this,

is not meant to suggest "what the fuck are you talking about," but rather to agree "yes, that is funny, and sometimes I feel similarly." And to think that I was under the impression that I had been unable to get through to her! A non-drinker, my Italian friend assured me that I was alright in her book as she told me her name, which I repeated, "Temperla is it?" To which she kindly responded, shaking her head with a somewhat more recognizable semblance of a smirk, "E-Tem-e-per-la." Oh yes, I repeated, "E-Tem-e-per-la." We were fast friends.