Keeping Up with the Belks

I’m not sure whether to call this a Charlotte thing, a North Carolina thing, a southern thing, or a millenial thing, but one thing’s for certain, it’s definitely a rude thing. I’m talking about the question that makes Miss Manners’ ears burn and causes Emily Post to roll over in her grave. A question that seems to be forever perched on the lips of Charlottans, an essential part of our efforts to keep up with the Belks. A question that within the bounds of this city knows no boundaries. A simple question, two words: How Much?

I have been working full time for a little over a year now. During that time I have been asked by no less than fifteen different people, all either from or currently living in NC, how much I earn each year. In fact, the only persons who inquired who live outside of the state were my parents (who I felt obliged to tell considering all the help they have given and continue to provide me with.) But honestly, fifteen. I only consider 2 or 3 of them close enough friends to provide with that information. And when I take in to account that they had the audacity to ask, I don’t feel compelled to share with anyone.

Of course, sometimes I do. Most recently with a friend who is moving back to NC from abroad who graduated with the same “useless” degree I did. When we were discussing job prospects in the city and the earning potential of different career paths, he asked, and since it seemed more relevant to the conversation than intrusive, I spilled…with an estimate. Because for one thing, I work two jobs, and even with just one, my salary figure doesn’t accurately reflect the extensive benefit package offered by my employer or the variety of “perks” I get on a regular basis. And for another, no one needs the exact number.

Other times, I have shut it down. For instance, last summer during an outing in uptown I bought a round of drinks for a group of friends I hadn’t partied with in awhile. This prompted the question from the group. It caught me so off guard that it took me several moments to finally blurt out “sorry, but I’d rather not share.” I felt bad shutting them down, but I didn’t want them to think my generosity was anything more than what it was: wanting to do something nice for people I like.

I’ve always thought of any “how much” question as rude, intrusive, and a major over step of boundaries. But in Charlotte, it seems like I’m in the minority.

Another example, how much is your rent? This one pops up even more frequently. To be fair, I don’t have a mortgage, and I’ve never overheard anyone ask someone how much their house cost or what they mortgage payment is. But for some reason, rent seems to be fair game. Maybe it’s because anyone could look up the price you paid for a house on the mecklenburg county real estate search (which, btw, I strongly discourage). But this is just as easily done with apartment complexes. Look up current availabilities and you can get a fairly accurate picture (again discouraged). Maybe it’s because among young people apartment searches are more frequent and price is important. But whatever the reason behind the curiosity, this is one of the things you just shouldnt be asking.

If someone wants to offer their “how much” and it works in the conversation, then by all means, it’s theirs to offer. But I would never ask, and neither should you. We don’t really need to know how much our friends or family members make. And they don’t need to know that about us. Having that information just opens the door to making assumptions about someone’s financial situation. It’s bad enough with the information we provide daily (our wardrobes, cellphones, vehicles, homes, attendance at social events).

I didn’t want my girlfriends to think I was spending recklessly or that I could be a constant source of free beverages (whatever the case may have been). I feel bad sometimes when I don’t answer. Because I know people will continue to assume things, including the idea that I may be trying to hide something about my financial situation. But I shouldn’t have to feel bad, because under no circumstances should anyone be asking me this question, even if they do buffer it with “if you don’t mind me asking”. Yes, actually, I do.

So much for impeccable southern manners. Sound off Charlottans: how often do you get asked how much?