Do You See Antlers Growing Out of My Head?
Most people wouldn’t describe me as blunt, but right now, I’m going to be very clear:
Unless you see antlers growing out of my head, I am not a deer.
And if you’re a stranger, I'm also not your "Dear." Or your sweetie, or your hun. These type of endearments coined by complete strangers make me want to find a hose and squirt them. When I hear a young restaurant server ask a silver-haired senior woman, “What can I get you, Hun?” I want to intervene and ask, “What’s wrong with you? Do you know how belittling you sound?"
But I don't. Instead, I write a whiny blog about it. I actually started typing this on my phone after an incident in the refrigerated section of the grocery store. As I casually perused the aisle, an employee called out, “Excuse me, dear,” as he simultaneously mowed by with some rolling monstrosity. Oh boy...So many problems with this scenario.
First, the “Dear”
Let’s begin by addressing the term of endearment. "Dear." Dear? Had we met before? Nope. I am a customer. I contribute to this man’s managerial salary (manager conclusion based on his fitted shirt and slacks). I am not Mr. Manager’s girlfriend or his sister or his niece. Next time, reserve the dear for someone other than customers you are preparing to roll over.
Now let’s address the “excuse me” portion of our interaction. Did Mr. Manager call out then wait for me to move out of his way before barreling past with his big old trolley? No. This was a “You’re going to get hit if you don’t move this very second” kind of warning. But here’s the thing: “excuse me, “pardon me,” and all those type of phrases are not warnings. They do not give you a free pass to run someone down if they don’t instantly move. They are requests for another person to move because you are the one causing the inconvenience. Until the other person has moved out of the way, you wait.
Buck Up and Keep Going
So there I am in the cool section of the store, Mr. Manager hollering out his food emergency. Naturally, I attempt to keep from becoming a victim of food trolley assault. I stumble forward with my cart and proceed to tip over the basil plant I had picked out. Yes, I provided a few aggravated grunts and sighs, and the question became: Do I hunt him down? Do I let the store know how rude one of their managers is?
Noting my nonprofessional attire (sweats or something comparable), I assumed my complaint would be disregarded. Let’s face it; it’s easy to dismiss people who aren’t dressed as nicely as we are. It might be subconscious, but I’m sure we’ve all done it.
So what did me, my schlubby clothes, and my little basil plant do? I whipped out my cell phone and begin dictating this little incident. Then I proceeded to conclude my shopping and return home with a slightly disturbed basil plant.
To Conclude
Why am I telling you (complaining about) all this? Because I'm a sensitive person? Sure. No argument there. But I guess what I’m really getting at is the level of disrespect we show one another. That I show others. There's the hurried nature of our lives, the notion that we are too busy to wait long enough for someone to move out of the way. That we're too rushed to ask the grocery cashier how her day is going or to smile at someone who looks sad. But unless there is blood gushing out of someone's limb, we can all wait for people to move out of the way before we brush past. I can take a deep breath and greet you before I bombard you with my to-do list. (Husband, I hope you’re reading this and see I’m trying to change).
I also realize how much terms of endearment really mean. They’re more than the title of that mother-daughter movie from the 80’s. When we use terms of endearment, they ought to mean something, which is why we should use them for those we love, those we know, those we are showing affection for. They should always be used in a respectful way. (Saying “Yes, dear” sarcastically is definitely the fastest way to piss me off).
I am aware that this little blog is not going to change the world. I will continue to be mowed over in grocery stores. Strangers in the drive-thru will call me “Hun.” Men I don’t know will think it’s cute to call me sweetheart, and in spite of all this, I will survive. You will too. But maybe, we can all slow down, show a bit more respect, and think about the flippant titles we give to strangers.
Disclaimer: If a literal deer leaps in front of your car, this is one exception to the “excuse me" rule. By all means, safely swerve to miss said deer, as well as all other vehicles. Your car and the deer will thank you.
TELL ME:
What’s one of your most memorable grocery store incidents?
BOHEMIAN CHALLENGE:
List as many terms of endearment you can think of. Make some up, then try to use them in a creative project (short story, collage, song, etc.).