I had no intention of making this blog a life lesson thing. But hey, if that is what it becomes, then, “so be it.” I’d like to begin today’s post by admitting, I am an original “Eva,” as in “Deliver us From,” which gives me some authority on today’s topic, (a movie with Gabrielle Union, in case you didn’t know). Ask anyone with whom I grew up – anyone who knew me as a young woman – “Get out of my way; was I talking to you or did I ask you to talk to me,” all worked as a mantra. Believe me, this didn’t only include men of whom I had no interest, it also held true for any challenging circumstance. As a young bride, when I went to the market, my husband would more than not, accompany me. First, let me confess; grocery shopping in New York caused much angst. Of course, as a newlywed moving across the river into New Jersey, this anxiety traveled with me. That being said, picture this – I walk through the door, grab a shopping cart, assume the stance, and away I’d go ready for my first encounter with anyone who might want to take the steak I had my eye on, like a Lioness stalking her kill. My husband, in sheer amazement, and like the Tamer of that beast, would discuss with me, once he caught up, how unnecessary my approach to the shopping experience proved. Again, I must add, he’s from New Jersey, he had no idea.
But, the reason for this subject is, the other day I witnessed an ugly thing. Let me set the stage. I walked into the post office again. Yeah, yeah, I know I need to pick another route. Or maybe not, I get good story ideas from there. Anyhoo, as I go inside, one young woman pops through the doors ahead of me, and moves behind a person who had not gone through the roped area, she’s simply standing at the opening, by the end. There are two people at the counter, one by us and one at the far side. I instinctively begin to walk through, following the rope. The person at the end, the only one waiting when myself and the young lady arrived, announced – “Excuse me, I’m on line.” I answered, “The line goes this way,” and pointed to the space designated for anyone waiting. I should have told her, if she were so worried about someone breaking in front of her she should have gone in properly. She mumbled something, I don’t know what. So, I smiled and answered, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to get in front of you.”
The person closest to us at the counter got what she needed and stepped to the side, because now she has to fill out some kind of paperwork. Next in line is the offensive one, who goes to the window. Before Ms. Uncivil could finish her transaction, the person next to her, the one filling out the paperwork, reaches toward the postal worker. The evident troublemaker frowns, shouts and waves her hand in the air, “Excuse me, I’m here.” At that point, my stomach turned. I understand we women usually have one hundred different reasons driving a bad episode. I also realize life is simpler here, which is why the offender’s actions clearly screamed, she came in from some other place. This, of course for me, made it even more unattractive. But, with that in mind, wouldn’t she look around when she walked in, and notice only two people in the post office indicating how relaxed things are here? In turn, helping her attitude, changing it to one of giddiness – where she might say to herself – “I could never get this at home.”
To make my point more clear, as a youngster, I remember a neighbor who always agitated her husband. I also recall, as she got older, time chipping it all away. My mother would say how she really did age with grace. What I’m getting at is, why wait twenty or thirty years. For anyone who needs to, begin working on it now, because the antonyms for gracefulness and humility are not pretty in deed. Of course, firstly, I guess one needs to ask themselves if bad manners, and arrogance are a problem? But, once that’s determined, if need be, think long and hard before exhibiting such a display as our antagonist in this story. Not to mention, it’ll definitely add years to your life. I have, without doubt, learned over time such performances are truly futile.
With all of that being said, I need to add, I’m still learning control when it comes to gracefulness and humility. As much as I hate to say it, if the setting is optimum, you’ll catch my husband speaking through clenched teeth, and a furrowed brow as he snaps the whip on the floor to get my attention, and remind me to reign in the beast. Then again, like my first post about the privileged person, maybe for me – I can continue to take my frustrations to the blank page.