WE COULD BE A LOT NICER - THAN WE ARE
TAKING OUT OUR FRUSTRATIONS ON OTHERS - AND INFLICTING HURT SEEMS QUITE GRATIFYING
I WAS IN A GRAVENHURST SHOP, ONE DAY, WHEN A CUSTOMER, AS FAR AS I WAS CONCERNED, WENT WHACKO ON THE STORE MANAGER. I WASN'T TRYING TO LISTEN IN EITHER, BUT NONE OF US ON THAT AFTERNOON, HAD ANY CHOICE EXCEPT TO LEAVE THE STORE ALTOGETHER, TO SEPARATE FROM THE DIN OF EXPRESSED UNHAPPINESS. EVEN THEN, WE WOULD HAVE TO PASS THE SALES COUNTER, WHERE THE ALTERCATION WAS TAKING PLACE. YOU JUST NEVER KNOW WHEN SOMETHING IS GOING TO GET TOSSED DURING ONE OF THOSE EPISODES.
THE ELDERLY CUSTOMER UNLEASHED HER FRUSTRATIONS ABOUT EVERYTHING SHE PERCEIVED WRONG WITH THE STORE, AND I SUPPOSE SOCIETY GENERALLY. IT WAS LOUD AND IGNORANT IN EVERY WAY. EVEN THOUGH THE WOMAN DIDN'T SWEAR AT THE MANAGER, SHE DID EVERYTHING ELSE OFFENSIVE, EXCEPT DANCING NAKED ON THE COUNTER. SHE ACCUSED THE MANAGER OF A VARIED ASSORTMENT OF IN-STORE CRIMES, INCLUDING THEFT. ALLEGEDLY SHE MISAPPROPRIATED ON A DAILY BASIS. AT LEAST ACCORDING TO THIS VERY UPSET CAMPER. IF THIS LADY RECALLED LOSING TWENTY-FIVE CENTS AS A CHILD, SHE WOULD HAVE BLAMED THE STORE MANAGER. EVEN IF SHE HADN'T BEEN BORN YET, THE MANAGER WAS GOING TO BE BLAMED AS THE SOURCE OF SOCIETY'S COLLAPSE.
THERE WAS QUITE A LINE-UP OF CUSTOMERS, WHO HAD A FRONT ROW VANTAGE POINT, TO HEAR AND SEE ALL THE ANTICS OF THIS INCREDIBLY INSENSITIVE WOMAN. NONE OF THEM FLINCHED WHATSOEVER. THEY SEEMED QUITE ENTRANCED BY THE TIRADE, ALMOST AS IF, GETTING SOME SICK PLEASURE OUT OF WATCHING THIS BROW-BEATEN MANAGER, SINK LOWER AND LOWER BEHIND THE COUNTER. AT THAT MOMENT, I HADF A STRANGE FLASHBACK TO BY YOUTH. I REMEMBER TRYING TO BREAK UP A FIGHT ONCE, WHERE A GROUP OF GAWKERS WERE ACTUALLY KICKING A VICTIM OF A KNOCK-OUT PUNCH. THEY WERE CONNECTING WITH THE MAN'S HEAD. WHEN I INTERVENED, THEY TURNED THEIR FURY ON ME. THESE PEOPLE HAD NO INTENTION OF STOPPING THIS BIT OF RETAIL ENTERTAINMENT, AND I COULD JUST TELL AT THIS MOMENT, HISTORY WAS GOING TO REPEAT.
AFTER ANOTHER ROUND OF ACCUSATIONS, ABOUT STEALING MONEY, AND MAKING UNDERHANDED DEALS WITH CUSTOMERS SHE LIKED, THE MANAGER JUST STARTED TO CRY. THERE WAS A PERVSE JOY BREAKING OUT, AMONGST THE GATHERING, AS IF SOME GREAT INJUSTICE HAD FINALLY BEEN DEALT A DEATH BLOW. I COULD FEEL THE "SHANE" IN ME SURGING, AND I YELLED OUT, AS LOUD AS I COULD, TO GET EVERYONE'S INTENTION, THAT IT WAS TIME TO STOP THE BERATING. JUST AS I MENTIONED ABOUT BREAKING UP A PHYSICAL FIGHT, THE WOMAN AND THE CROWD TURNED THEIR SCORN ON ME, AS IF I WAS THE STORE MANAGER'S PARTNER IN THE CRIMES ALLEGED. IF I WAS HER DEFENDER, I WAS ALSO GUILTY. I DIDN'T SEE MYSELF AS THE DEFENDER OF STORE POLICY, OR THE MANAGER'S CHARACTER, BUT RATHER, AS A CONCERNED CITIZEN, RAISED WITH CHRISTIAN VALUES, WHO HONESTLY FELT THIS WAS OUTLANDISH VERBAL ABUSE, WITH A SUBSTANTIAL QUANTITY OF SLANDEROUS ALLEGATIONS.
"MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS," THE WOMAN YELLED BACK, POINTING HER FINGER AT ME, AS IF IT WAS A GUN AND SHE WAS READY TO FIRE. I REMINDED HER A SECOND TIME, THAT SHE MUST CEASE AND DECIST, HER ATTACK, AND THAT I WOULD NOT "BE MINDING MY BUSINESS," UNLESS SHE BEGAN MINDING HER OWN. I SUGGESTED THAT SHE HAD EXPRESSED HER OPINIONS, AND THAT REPEATING THEM WAS UNNECESSARY, AS WE HAD ALL APPRECIATED HER ANGER WITH THE RETAIL ENVIRONMENT THAT DAY. IT WAS ENOUGH OF A BREAK IN THE ACTION, THAT SHE WAS FORCED TO REGAIN HER COMPOSURE, LONG ENOUGH AT LEAST, TO PAY FOR THE ITEM SHE WANTED TO PURCHASE. THE CROWD LOOKED AT ME, AS IF THEY WERE ALL CHERISHING THE IDEA OF KICKING MY ASS. IT WAS EVEN MORE WORRISOME, I THINK, THAN THE RIDICULOUS PERFORMANCE THE LADY HAD PROVIDED. THEY WERE PISSED-OFF THE SHOW WAS OVER PREMATURELY. I SUPPOSE IT ALL CAME DOWN TO THEATRICS GENERALLY, PRESUMABLY TO PROVE A POINT, ABOUT JUST HOW BADLY SHE HAD BEEN TREATED AS A CUSTOMER. I WONDERED LATER, IF I HADN'T BEEN THERE, HOW FAR THE ATTACK WOULD HAVE GONE, BEFORE THE MANAGER WAS FORCED TO CALL 911? I COULDN'T BELIEVE THERE WERE FOUR BYSTANDERS WHO SIDED WITH THE IRRATE CUSTOMER. TWO OF THE CUSTOMERS WERE REGULARS, WHO OFTEN CHATTED WITH THE MANAGER, BUT WHO ON THIS OCCASION, DECIDED IF A PUBLIC STONING WAS IN PROGRESS…….THEY'D JUST WATCH.
I WAITED UNTIL THE LADY WAS OUT OF THE STORE, FOLLOWED BY THE OTHERS WHO HAD BEEN AT THE CHECK-OUT, ENJOYING THE SPECTACLE, AND I OFFERED MY WITNESS ACCOUNT, IF SHE DECIDED TO PURSUE LEGAL ACTION. WE BOTH KNEW THE LADY, AND THE FACT SHE ALLEGED THEFT, IN FRONT OF A SUBSTANTIAL AUDIENCE, CLEARLY OPENED UP A WIDE PATH TO A COURT DATE FOR SLANDER. SHE THANKED ME. SHE HAD NO INTEREST IN PURSUING THE CUSTOMER, OR MAKING ANY COMPLAINT. BUT SHE DIDN'T NEED TO THANK ME…..AS THIS IS WHAT WE'RE SUPPOSED TO DO, IN SUCH CIRCUMSTANCES. IT WAS THE WAY I WAS RAISED. I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW MANY SIMILAR SITUATIONS, MY MOTHER FOUND HERSELF, ESPECIALLY IF I WAS WITH HER, AND SOME PARENT ADMINISTERED CORPORAL PUNISHMENT TO A CHILD IN THEIR CARE. TALK ABOUT OPENING THE GATES OF HELL. MERLE WOULD PHYSICALLY INTERVENE, AND I ALWAYS WORRIED ABOUT HER GETTING ATTACKED AS A RESULT. FUNNY THING, THOUGH, THAT I NEVER WITNESSED ONE OF THESE EVENTS, THAT ENDED BADLY FOR ANYONE INVOLVED. SHE SEEMED TO KNOW WHEN A YOUNG MOTHER WAS ABOUT TO BURST FROM STRESS, AND IT WAS USUALLY THE ROOT CAUSE OF AN ANGRY OUTBURST. MERLE WOULD EVEN TAKE THE MOTHER AND CHILD INTO A RESTAURANT, AND BUY THEM A LITTLE TREAT, TO CALM THE PARENTAL CALAMITY…… THAT WAS USUALLY A SPUR OF THE MOMENT THING. THERE WAS NO WAY I COULD HAVE AVOIDED, OR WANTED TO AVOID, HALTING WHAT WAS HAPPENING IN THIS MAIN STREET SHOP. ALL I HAD TO DO WAS DEMAND A BREAK-UP OF THE ASSAULT IN PROGRESS. I DIDN'T NEED A SOAP BOX OR A BLOG TO DO WHAT WAS NECESSARY, AS A HUMAN BEING, TO HELP SOMEONE ELSE. SO WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THE FOUR CUSTOMERS, WHO STOOD SO COWARDLY IN FRONT, WATCHING THE ATTACK AS IF SPECTATORS, GETTING THEIR MONEY'S WORTH.
Yesterday morning, I was again reminded of this event, when I began small talk with a clerk in a gas bar, who had just been called an "f….ing bitch," by a customer. She wouldn't have told me, about the verbal assault, if I hadn't asked her how she was doing…..which is always part of my greeting wherever I visit. "It was going good until the last customer," she said. What was the customer complaining about? Society? The economic woes of the world? The fact he doesn't like what he sees in his mirror every morning? Who knows? But she said this was a routine for the customer, who has offered these unkind remarks previously, believing the clerk controls the gas prices, and is in cahoots with the major oil companies, to injure his rights to a prosperous life. Who really knows what goes on the big fat head of an ignorant bastard like that, other than hate and hate mongering. She explained to me that most of the employees get treated the same, and are often called worse names than she had experienced. Some verbal assaults were border-line threatening, and an inch away from physical assault. I asked about the overhead cameras, and she suggested that everything is captured on film, but nothing that was happening brushed on criminal-activity. It was morally incomprehensible, and disgustingly rude, but not criminal. If you were to sue everyone who calls a gas clerk a "f….ing bitch," you'd fill the court dockets for years to come…..and never get the kind of resolution you might expect for injustice and inhumanity. As well, she explained, there are often other patrons in the shop at the time, and hear the verbal assault, and do nothing to help out…….as if they are pleased someone else is stating their opinions. Would they intervene if the clerk was being physically assaulted? So what's the difference between the varieties of assault? I know. It's up to the courts to decide.
I was in a grocery store, when a customer all of a sudden, took offense about something the young clerk had said to him. It couldn't have been anything terribly serious, but this guy went off like a roman candle. "Wipe that smirk off your face you little bitch, or I'll walk right into the manager's office and have you fired." It rolled off his tongue like it was a prepared speech. The girl looked frightened, and just stared at the man, as if expecting a round-house blow to the chin. He mumbled something back about the crappy staff they hire at the store, and how disrespectfully they act toward regular customer like himself. I thought to myself, "Ted, why is it that you always find yourself in this kind of situation." I felt sorry for the clerk, because whatever she had said to him, didn't warrant this kind of retort, which was as disrespectful, as he was claiming the store had treated him. He looked back at Suzanne and I, and we glared right through his thick head……and he knew it would turn ugly, if he said one more word other than "thank you!" We Curries don't see ourselves as moral avengers, but we also don't back down from getting involved, when there appears a genuine need to be an intervener. Most of the time, the situation can be eased entirely, by just letting the perpetrator know, there isn't a sympathetic ear in the vicinity. So why bother venting about the woes of personal challenge. The sales clerk had personal challenges that day. A day of being chastised for doing the job she was hired to perform. Nothing more, nothing less. Why did she deserve that kind of treatment from some smart ass, who really should have been tossed out of the store, by the seat of his pants. Suzanne held my arm. I'm short and bandy-legged but wirey.
This isn't a Gravenhurst situation. This is a world issue. While I don't want to give the impression, there aren't enough interveners to go around, I do think (and we've seen this before with murders), that many more people today have taken the oath of "not getting involved," to a terrible extreme. We've all seen and read about folks who have been attacked, stabbed, shot, beaten to death, in full view of curious voyeurs. Where have all the Shanes gone? John Wayne? The white cowboy hatted heroes, who stepped-up to defend the honor of the victim? I guess many have also watched and read news stories about interveners getting shot, stabbed and beaten-to death as well. Humanity has to count for something in our country!
One evening, at another local gas bar, I was filling my tank, and looked down at something twinkling in the light from the overhead lights. After I finished pumping, I bent over and picked the item up. It was a bullet from a handgun. That much I knew, even though I don't own a gun, and have never fired one. It was small calibre, and the kind of bullet that would kill the chap in the kiosk. I took it in to the clerk, and suggested that he may wish to contact the Ontario Provincial Police, as it was found by the pumps of his service station. He looked at it, rolling back and forth in his outstretched palm, and I suspected he was thinking, "This may have been the luckiest day of my life." I would concur, even if he didn't give me any opportunity to comment. Whatever car that rolled free of, what lap it slid from, belonged to someone who, at some time, was prepared to drop it into the chamber of a gun, and discharge it at something or someone. This was in Gravenhurst. Not Barrie or Toronto. Right at home. This was one of our citizens, holding the bullet, who very well could have been a casualty of some really bad humor out there.
Our clerks and employees face a lot of stuff in a given day. I've been known to be grumpy myself, and I'm sure a few clerks who've had the pleasure of serving me, have felt my inner frustration blooming. But I would never berate a clerk to make myself feel better, or empowered. There are a lot of numb-nuts out there, and evidence of this manifests everywhere. The other night, in a local food store, I found three frozen packages, someone had pulled from a cooler, left here and there, on shelves with bread, cookies, and sugar. This is the work of a.. hole, excuse my language. I should have added, "lazy a..hole." Have you seen the handiwork of these shoppers? I've even found these frozen meat packages, stuffed into the gum stands at the checkout. Now if they had decided not to buy the frozen food, all they had to do was hand it back to the clerk, and it would be put, in a timely fashion, back where it had been on display. A person who would, instead, prefer that the product be destroyed, is the same goof, that will stand at the counter and complain about the high food prices. Yes, there is a whack of self absorption out there, and it is affecting all our lives.
And then, there are the charming customers, who will eat a chocolate bar and leave the wrapper on another shelf. I'm sure the staffers monitoring the store surveillance have some great stories to tell. I like to stare down the jerks who stand and eat grapes or berries in the produce section. I love being the guy that rains on their little parade. I asked one elderly gentleman, stuffing his face with strawberries, (throwing the tops on the floor) if he was aware of the watering method, used by the farmers who raised the berry crop. He looked at me puzzled, with strawberry juice dripping off his chin, and asked, "No," he answered, quite indignant, that I interrupted his feeding frenzy, that he didn't see as either theft or even rude behavior. (Especially for the people who would later slip on the debris he left on the floor). So I said I'd show him with a simple demonstration. I held my finger at waist level, as if it was the male appendage, and waved it around as if watering the strawberries. The guy never said a word, but beat a hasty retreat…..which after all, was as good as getting into a sparring match, defending all the reasons, he shouldn't be driving up the price of produce by stealing. I'm bad for getting involved with things like this, because the guy may have picked a fight, or whipped out a gun and shot me at the strawberry section. That's not the kind of glory I've imagined for my exit from this mortal coil.
In fairness, I have to tell you another story, to show fair play here, and to point out that store clerks can also be jerks. Now for those of you who know us, or have read enough about our family to make a few character judgements, you'll probably feel we are righteous and God fearing enough, to avoid any foray into a criminal way of life. A few local councillors with the town and district here in Muskoka, might feel my comments and opinions are often "criminal," but that's just an opinion, not a fact. Suzanne is unbelievably honest, and feels huge guilt picking up a dollar coin off the sidewalk, fearing some little kid just lost her allowance, on the way to the candy shop. If a panhandler was to approach, with her doubts raging, she will hand off the found-money, as at least going to someone who needs it more than us. So one day, a few years ago, her integrity was tested at a food store, in Orillia. Suzanne was purchasing supplies for canning. She had been making her mother's recipe for pickled beets, which make me crazy. They're my drug of choice. She puts enough down, to keep me in beets all winter. One year she made some for my father, and the next year he started doing them himself, with her guidance. So we were on a mission, in the later summer that year, to get large baskets of beets. We went to a place we often relied for fresh produce, and found some nice full baskets at a really good price. So we bought two baskets.
Another couple, around our age, was doing the same thing, obviously, and were looking for beets. The gentleman had asked the produce clerk whether or not they had bushel baskets, and he said that they didn't, and all they had left was on display in these small baskets. The guy was a little intrusive on my personal space, so I kept looking back at him, wondering if we were going to be joined-at-the hip for the rest of our shopping adventure. I watched as he sorted the beets, and put more from other baskets on the two he was purchasing. The baskets were already full enough, and his looked really stupid. The awkwardly placed beets kept rolling off into the cart, when he tried to make them look, as if the clerk had arranged them in the first place. You probably can guess what happened next.
Suzanne was just about to pull the baskets out of the cart, at the check-out, when the Duddley Doolright (not sure how this is spelled, but you get the idea) of the produce department, stopped her, and began removing beets from the baskets still in the cart, suggesting to her in very clear and audible terms, "Now this wasn't fair to the other customers, was it? I think we'll just put these back, where you took them from," he said, with the kind of intent and glare, that sends the message to everyone in the vicinity, "you stole these, you fiend!" So for the next minute or so, he culled our baskets of the beets he felt we had unreservedly hoisted from the other baskets. About two carts back, I saw the real beet-crammer, looking sheepishly, as we took the heat for his misadventure. The clerk had believed, you see, that we were one and the same.
When I called him aside, and asked for an explanation, he told us how he had talked with me earlier about the bushel baskets I had wanted. Well, it wasn't from any internal frustrations I had that day, or for society generally, but I started to smell sulphur. Apparently I have a little devil in me. I told him that I had never spoken to him in my life. My wife hadn't spoken to him, and we had never complained about the size of the beet allocation in the smaller baskets. He told me how it was. How he saw me loading extra beets into the basket. I said something like, "Oh really," and "Well, sir, I think you are mistaken." He was so self assured his allegations had been correct, that he turned to walk away from me. So I accosted him once again, trying to be as polite as possible, under the circumstances. Which was bloody hard to do, with my Irish temper, as this bloke had just insulted my wife. I told him, how it was going to be, and if at any moment, my demeanor looked, as if I was an emerging Tony Soprano, that wold have been just fine. I demanded he offer an apology to my wife, and admit he had been mistaken. I let him know that he had the wrong couple, and I suggested he should consult the folks behind us, who also had beets in their buggy. Short version, he had a gander over at the red-faced gentleman's cart, and suddenly realized the case of mistaken identity. Suzanne got her apology. I didn't have to call him a turd, an a knob, or "f---king" anything, to make a strong point, that before you make statements alleging theft, you should be sure of your facts. Our act of disobedience was simple. We refuse to re-visit the store, and they're probably unaware of the protest anyway. But it certainly didn't require a loud shouting match, or fisticuffs to get the job done, and the point made.
A guy in a gas kiosk the other day, was complaining about some transaction, the new employee couldn't figure out. It had something to do with points, and as I was reading the front page news of the local paper, I wasn't all that interested in his transaction. I perked up when he started to talk about international business, and the exploitations of multi-national corporations and the almighty oil and gas industry. I just got twenty bucks worth of gas, and had to pick-up Suzanne from the high school. Geez, it wouldn't have been too bad, if he had actually known what he was talking about. I wanted to ask him if he had ever actually read a newspaper, or just listened to those minute long market-updates on am radio? The guy was spouting off as if he was someone who actually knew what a derivative was, in financial wheeling and dealing; yet there were a lot of holes in his reasoning. He had this wild anticipation that the lady, now on her second day as clerk, (I asked) was working on the corporation's behalf, to steal his points. Possibly to go back in the oil drum. Deluded? Just a tad. Low self esteem? You bet! But you know, when it hits you in the face like this, being deluded, and stupid on top of that, means you are a menace to everyone's right to enjoy a good day on the job. Like the woman at the grocery check-out, who finds an item is not "on sale," as she had thought, and demands to speak to the top-dog, to make a complaint. Even when the kindly checkout person, shows the customer the sales flyer, the only retraction sounds like, "I didn't want it anyway. I'm not paying for it." If the customer had a lash to dispense, it would be whipped at the cashier, for being right. It might seem like "words" but the way in which they are used, can be particularly stinging, as if getting hit with some object……maybe even from an open hand. That's the intent. You won't go to jail for calling someone a bitch. You might if you hit them instead. Make no mistake, that the intent is to hurt. That's not right. And not just because of my Christian upbringing. Being nasty and thoughtless, is the marker of bigger problems, that have and will manifest in oh so many ways……and there's a darn good chance one of us will be in the line of fire. One day soon. Oh joy!
Our boys often get disgruntled folks in their main street music shop, here in Gravenhurst. We don't have a manager. Don't have any staff. Just owners. No complaint department either. We entertain counter point, when it is relevant, and problems encountered with materials that have been purchased at the shop, are always handled with concern for customer satisfaction. If you, on the other hand, are just visiting for a claw sharpening session, well sir, we point and then open the door, and trust that it won't hit the customer's ass on the way out. But they will be going out. We have a strict policy about how wonderful our days are going to be, and we are a sanctuary for the peace-lovers and kindly amongst us. As for those who shop on the five-finger discount plan, we harvest our belongings, like records under the shirt, even before they leave the shop. They aren't accused of anything, at that point, but simply asked to pay, or replace the items they have hidden on their person. We're polite at least. Not like the clerk who accused my wife of beet swiping.
Thanks so much for joining today's blog. Please visit again soon. Be cheerful, and enjoy the interactions of the shopping experience in our town…..which overwhelmingly is a positive experience.
TERRENCE HAIGHT BEQUEATH UPDATE - ISN'T ONE
I HAD HOPED TO HAVE A RELAY OF INFORMATION FROM THE GREATER GRAVENHURST RATEPAYERS ASSOCIATION, REGARDING THE FATE OF THE TERRENCE HAIGHT BEQUEATH, OF A MILLION DOLLARS, THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEALT WITH AT THIS WEEK'S TOWN OF GRAVENHURST COUNCIL MEETING. I HAVE CHECKED ALL THE ONLINE NEWS SOURCES AND THE RATEPAYER'S SITE, BUT NARY A MENTION. POSSIBLY THERE WILL BE AN UPDATE IN TOMORROW'S "WEEKENDER." FOR SUCH AN IMPORTANT ISSUE, AT LEAST I THINK SO, THE LACK OF COVERAGE IS A LITTLE BIT TROUBLING. I'M NOT AN INVESTIGATIVE REPORTER ANY LONGER. JUST A BLOGGER. IF YOU DO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED, I'D BE GRATEFUL FOR AN UPDATE.
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