One of the downsides of being a shop assistant is the vulnerability of the position. It’s impossible to hide from folk you'd rather not have to talk to, and some people think they have the inalienable right to cross-question you about personal matters.
I’m generally very open with my highs and lows, but I do like to be able to choose who (when face-to-face) I share my stuff with, and I also like to have some control over what it is I divulge.
Into the store on Saturday strolled a women I met once socially and have been carefully avoiding on the High Street ever since. She was, before retirement, a district nurse or midwife I think, anyway, she still is a person who is feels she has a right to delve into people’s private lives. She’s also one of those bulldozer women who holds you with an intense stare until she has got what she wants.
She came in, stood in the doorway and gasped in horror: ‘Is that YOU Carol? what have you done to yourself.”
Now I know I’m not looking my best at the moment. The asthma has needed lots of cortisone to get it under control and that makes my face swell. I have black rings under my eyes from broken nights. I don’t like this. It isn’t my face that looks back to me from the mirror and I go out as little as possible so I don’t get the sort of reaction I was facing at that moment.
I scowled at her: ‘I have no idea what I ‘ve done to myself. Can I help you? ‘ Undeterred, she asked me if I had given up the bookshop ‘because it got too much?’ ‘Yes - and for other reasons,’ I snapped. ‘Can I help you. ‘ Reluctantly she turned to look at the shelves and a pretext for coming in. Another customer arrived, someone I know well, and we started a conversation. She melted away, eventually, promising to return.
I’ll have to hone my repelling skills!
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2 comments:
get in a stock of skunk spray and demonstrate it next time?
Oh GOOD idea!!
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