Sunday 15 June 2014

foot-in-mouth victory (a true story)

Because it was a slow day at the college book store, I was able to hear everything they said. This pair of grey-haired ladies. These who think they know it all and have seen everything.

 They were clearly there because somebody they knew was graduating. Maybe a grand daughter or a nephew. They were browsing the vast t-shirt collections, the books about camping on Vancouver Island, the pom-pom gloves that we had just been quietly mocking half an hour before because who in their right mind would buy gloves covered in frays of yarn? Especially at that price?

What a lot of relatives fail to realize is that once you've attended a college or university, the swag doesn't seem as cool it once may have. You want to leave that hellhole of twelve-hour days, stress and studying and move on to "the real world". You don't want a lime green hoodie with the name of the place you are so eager to graduate from. You want a job and a life.

These ladies were grabbing what looked like one of everything. I guess it's kind of sweet. You can sense the pride they have. Maybe the kid is the first one in their family to attend a post-secondary institution.

I was standing behind my assigned cash register. It actually wasn't "mine", I'm only a casual worker, and as such just take over for whomever it is that is sick for the day. This day I was in for a woman who seems hell-bent on self improvement. She left pale yellow post-it notes to herself with such aphorisms as "I choose happiness" and "goodness is everywhere" all over the place. One of them confusingly had the lone word "JUST" with a sad face beside it. I asked my co-workers about it and they told me she is trying to stop using the word because it makes her sound weak.

One of the t-shirts we sell at the bookstore states in white typewriter font on an aqua background "BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD". A lot of the shirts are just as idealistic, but this one caught the eye of the women.

 "My niece has a tattoo that says "be the change" up on her collarbone." Proclaimed the short one. Her friend looked at her disapprovingly and she quickly side-stepped, "I usually don't like tattoos but this one is nice and it's really subtle. It's just small and in a nice handwriting."

 "I don't care for tattoos on women." Said the other. "It looks trashy."

 "Oh yes, I agree, I usually don't like tattoos on girls." She started heading toward me at my till, all the time speaking louder and louder so her friend could hear what she was saying from where she was standing, admiring a bamboo pen that is engraved with, you guessed it, the name of the college.

 "I see these girls walking around and they are just covered in tattoos, it's absolutely disgusting. I really don't like it. One or two small ones are okay if you can cover them with your clothes..." She finally arrived at my cash register, still not seeing me, looking back at her friend near the pen display.

 I was smiling despite myself. This woman had backed herself into a very awkward situation and there were a few ways I could handle it.

 (This is me)

Although I was looking a lot more book-store and a lot less "trying to look metal or something" that day.

I chose the customer service route. I gave half a laugh and said "Except mine, right?"
 -
She finally looked up at me. And a mixture of absolute horror and embarrassment dawned on her face. It was so satisfying.

"I am SO sorry, I didn't see you. Oh, oh I apologise."

"That's okay, I work in a tattoo shop, I've heard much worse than that." I said, ringing her sweatshirts up. "I've heard everything by now, I think."

"Oh, my foot is in my mouth, I can't believe...oh I'm sorry"

I laughed. "No, it's fine, they're not for everybody."

She paid for her items and backed away, still apologizing.

"Don't worry about it, I really don't care!" I said.

The woman scurried to the back of the store to her friend and whispered frantically until the other agreed to leave. As soon as they were out the door they stopped and had a frantic conversation, glancing back through the window at me. I waved and they both turned away and left the building. 

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I suppose the lesson in this story is to always be aware of what opinions you are voicing aloud.

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