Well, I was just out at the store foraging for the last of the booze food supplies and things, when I encountered the kind of shopper I just fucking hate. Usually it is a self-entitled woman, wandering around with her shopping cart parked in the very centre of the aisles, with her massive fur coat and sense of oblivion making a protective bubble around her and her precious ways. She will cut into a conversation you’re having with a store person to complain about wilting lettuce or the high price of oranges, or some such shit. She will butt in line and pretend she doesn’t see you. She will be rude and belittle the cashier when told the price of her goods are higher than what she expected. Only this time, she was a man.
I kept running into him, walking in opposite directions through the aisles, and though I was patiently waiting for him to move his cart over so I could continue with my shopping, he never once looked at me. I tried to get him to excuse me. Twice. But he didn’t want to hear me. It was as if the entire store was for him alone. After waiting about 30 seconds for him to finish perusing the juice section (and I could tell by his body language that he was getting irritated by the selection that clearly didn’t include the item he was looking for) I gently put one hand on his cart, just to move it over a smidge. Just so I could keep walking. He looked up, all agitated that I was mauling and handling all his personal effects. Asshole.
But, I could also see by the look in his wild eyes that there was more to him than that. He was a little off. OCD, maybe. Made me feel a touch sorry for him. “Excuse me… if I could just get by…”
“Well, you could have ASKED me! I mean, just SAY something!” All agitated, nearly hysterical. There was really no use explaining to this dude, so I rolled my eyes a little and just kept walking, now that the space was cleared. Never mind.
I found a line to check out in, and noticed him in another. He was doing all the kinds of asshole things I mentioned before. Also shifting from one foot to the other, craning his neck to see when, OH WHEN! might the line be moving faster so he can get on with his very busy, busy life. Lord have mercy.
Miraculously, he was checked out before I was. (I always choose the longest lines… always.) As I was finishing up, I saw that he was waiting with his cart of bagged groceries, agitated by something else. Someone had left his or her older, yellow lab tied up in the vestibule, out of the cold. He couldn’t leave the store without passing the dog, and this was clearly paralysing him. Heh.
“Ah… do you know who’s dog that is?” he’s saying loudly to no-one in particular. A busy stock boy passes him by, shrugging. He’s on his way to the cabbage section. Everybody is busy.
He is shifting from one foot to the other, again, craning his neck on tip-toe to see if there’s another way around this damn dog. But there wasn’t. See? Karma really is a tricky bitch sometimes. Heh.
I was finished with my purchases, finished wishing a Happy New Year to all the familiar faces, complete with hugs and kisses… and I was ready to leave. And I find myself now standing behind this weird, rude dude.
He nearly barked at me. “Is that your dog?”
“Um, no.” I could have just kept on walking.
“Well, do you know who’s dog it is?” As if I would have any idea who’s fucking dog it could possibly be in this crowded store.
“I’m sorry, no. Are you worried about the dog?” Kindness. Patience.
“Well, it’s just that dogs always jump all over my food, and my wife hates it when…” Oh sure. Blame your extreme dog-phobia on your absent wife, if she even exists, you asshat.
“Would it help you if I acted as a barrier between you and the dog? Like this?” I walked through the automatic doors, with my hands up in friendliness, and stroked the gentle creature on the nose. There was no way in hell this lovey-dovey dog was going to jump on this guys cart-full of bagged groceries, but I made sure the guy would have a wide berth to get around us both anyway.
Dude slowly wheeled his cart our the doors, and when the dog turned his head in his direction, the man actually jumped a little. Dog-trauma. OCD. Whatev. It took all I had not to yell, “Sic him, Fido!!” But of course, I would never…
“Thank you.” He said. He walked out the door without looking back.
I patted the dog on the head, and walked out after the man. “Happy New Year!” I said. He didn’t want to hear me.
That’s okay. It would have been too easy to dismiss him. I’m sane inside my own head – it must be difficult to be crazy like that.
My last random act of kindness for the year. Karma intact. Yay for me.
Happy New Year, freaky dude. I hope your next year is saner for you, though, I doubt it will be. Better you than me, man.
G.G.
