Three is a good number, or so we like to think, at least in terms of things: three 7s, three of a kind, good things come in 3s, and the list goes on. But what happens when we turn those ‘things’ into people? – the cards change.
It can suck being the third person. Dinner specials are often for just two. Doorways are wide enough for a pair to pass, but not for a triple to travel through. Heck, even in the car, someone’s got to sit in the back seat. Alone.
At the bar in a linear seating arrangement, conversation is limited. One end is involved in the discussion, while the other end is intensely trying to listen and add to it. Questions from the unattended end often go unheard. The third person is constantly trying to play catch-up in the conversation much like a greyhound tries to catch the rabbit.
The middle person may try to balance the two sides. They may scoot their chair back a bit to create a triangle setting. Doing so, however, they risk losing the power seat and allowing the two ends to exclude him from the conversations. The middle person turns their head like watching a tennis match.
The bar is not the only scene in which three people creates difficulties. Just about any social scene involving three does. The dynamics don’t work because the social-physical scale is not designed to.
However, the matter-of-course demands the trinity. First thing we do when we meet new people is find a common ground, a connection. We name-drop and realize we may know some of the same people. (The three of us must get together!) We meet someone so great; we can’t wait to introduce them to someone else.
What we fail to see in this position is what person A and person B may have in common. Nor do we create a social situation ideal for three folks. (What that may be is beyond me.) The outside person may become any of the three people, and may switch throughout the event.
So the other night, a friend and I made tentative plans for a meal. I was hesitant and didn’t want to be the third wheel. Again. Simultaneously though, the phrase occurred to me. Tricycles have three wheels.
Three wheels and success. Why – because the back two wheels support and carry the weight, while the front steers and controls. At any point the third, front wheel of the tricycle can turn or spin in its desired direction. The two wheels behind it are merely attached by the frame and follow by default.
Once I realized this, my anxiety ceased and I woke the next morning ready to go. Whether dinner was actually going to happen or not, I was ready. I could be the third wheel because like the front tricycle wheel I was in control of my destination.
