WTAF Are "Table Stakes"?
I have ADHD and “a touch of the ‘Tis.” I also have an auditory processing delay. For many of us neurodivergents with auditory processing issues, here’s how this plays out in real life:
A person says something to me.
I hold up my left hand in The Supremes’ Stop-in-the-Name-of-Love pause-indicator pose and say, “Wait a minute…WHAT?!?”
The person repeats the same paragraph back to me, verbatim, but right in the middle of their reply, I will interrupt, because my brain finally finished processing what they just said the first time around.
In this instance, I might reply, “Oh, I get what you mean, Dylan Mulvaney. Super-absorbent tampons are God-awful uncomfortable.” (This example assumes Dylan Mulvaney discussing the veracity of super-absorbent tampons with me.)
You see, my brain has the Doppler Effect. There’s a slight delay. A retardation, if you will (I’m granted special permission to use the term because I have some retardation).
When you speak to me, I’m literally visualizing whatever you are saying to me as if it’s a movie playing in my head. (Someone should do a study on whether ADHDers work in more creative fields because of this effortless ability to visualize.)
I share this background information to help you understand my confusion about the corporate world’s favorite bullsh*t bingo term, “Table Stakes.”
I used to work in the tech industry, and I had this boss who would use certain phrases incessantly. The most alarming was his catch phrase whenever we tried to hold him accountable for the strategy behind his ever-changing marketing whimsies. “We’re just building the car as we drive it,” he’d insist, briskly ending our video chat before my team could get a straight answer. (My catch phrase for his marketing strategies was “Nailing Jell-O to the wall.”)
At this point in my life, post-ADHD diagnosis, I was taking my Vyvanse like a good girl. I used every ADHD hack at my disposal to be as corporate-world “normal” as possible.
And then Table Stakes happened.
The boss learned a new phrase. He was visibly excited about his next marketing whimsy. To underscore being so pleased with himself, his eyes widened dramatically as he proclaimed, “It’s table steaks!” Emphasis on “table.”
I don’t gamble. Gambling terms are completely lost on me. So are sports terms, and, well, let’s face it — any terms related to topics that bore the f*ck outta me: math, science, engineering, you know — that icky S.T.E.M. stuff that would have been the quicker path to a six-figure career.
Despite my dutiful dose of Vyvanse that morning, “table steaks” had hijacked my brain. I felt my eyes drift away from my boss as he prattled on. ADHD daydream land was beckoning. I could hear Homer Simpson’s lascivious, food-porn voice moaning, “Mmmmmm…table steaks…”
My thoughts were racing in a loop, scrambling to make sense of table steaks, asking questions at a staccato pace:
What kind of steak? T-bone? Filet? (My brain needed to know which image to conjure.)
When did I last have a good steak?
What does steak have to do with any of this?
My eyes drifted back to the discussion taking place. The team was bobble-heading their agreement with the boss.
I. Was. Lost. And frustrated. And so angry with myself for being so stupid - for not understanding what everyone else understood with zero brain effort. It was another sad reminder: I was still not in the normal kids’ club. No amount of Vyvanse would change that.
As we stepped into the elevator, I asked my co-worker, “What did he mean by table steaks?”
It was then I realized, I was not alone. “I have no f*cking idea. Wanna go to lunch?”
It was then I also realized, all that steak talk was making me hungry. And that my favorite co-workers dropped indiscriminate eff-bombs. So, off we went to a great Mexican place for carne asada and lived happily ever after.
P.S. I did finally research what “it’s table stakes” means, because the curiosity was killing me. It means the bare minimum. As in, “A social media following of 100 million is table stakes to land a publishing deal anymore.” And now you know what I know. About table stakes, and about the publishing industry.