The Straggler

As part of my self-imposed therapy for my tendency towards self-absorption, I’ve begun asking more questions about other people’s lives rather than abruptly imposing a story of my own life on a captive audience. I understand that this isn’t the way to completely heal from this disease, but it sure puts things into perspective before I lay into someone because my own needs are not or have not been met.

The importance of gathering information hit me hard back in June when I was still cashiering at the store. I think anyone who has worked retail for any period of time could agree that the best part of the day is when the announcement is made that the store is closed. It’s a moment we expectantly wait upon hour after hour. And we watch the minutes just before closing time creep up like a turtle crossing the highway. For some reason, we naively expect that once the magic words, “We are closed for the evening” ring across the loud speaker, everyone will automatically drop everything and, though slightly disappointed they didn’t cash out before time was up, will gladly leave the building, reasoning along the way, “Ah, shucks! I better get out of here quickly so I don’t inconvenience the lives of these hard-working employees! ” Of course, this never happens. Most of the time you’ll have a straggler who ignores the announcement completely and continues shopping, or you’ll have someone who walks in right after the announcement was made but before the doors were locked. The latter is more forgivable than the former. It’s almost as if the first type of person is just trying to show you that they WILL NOT be told what to do!

That evening back in June, I was the one who had to stay late in order to help a straggler. As I stood at my register watching her meander through the clothing, searching each rack to find her size, and lifting a shirt up to her chest every now and then to estimate how it would fit on her, I grinded my teeth and mocked her, making subtle, but over-a-whisper comments about how we had closed ten minutes ago. (This lady is obviously just trying to torture me.)

Finally, the woman finished her shopping and approached my register. I grudgingly put my best foot forward and, smiling, asked her if she found everything ok and made flattering comments about the items she chose to purchase. One last step: take her money and get the heck out of there! She gave me a credit card (Good! Quick payment method!). I swiped the card...it was denied. I swiped it again…denied (Of course! Dangit, lady, just leave the stuff here and come back tomorrow!). That was my solution. Her solution was to go out to her car and get her checkbook. (Great, the slowest method of payment! Lady, you’re killing me!) So, she walked out to her car, which must have been parked in Ohio, and got her checkbook. When she came back in, she was concerned about why her credit card hadn’t worked. I explained to her that as a safety feature some credit cards can only be used a certain number of times within a short time-frame. I wasn’t totally sure this was true, but it seemed to appease my customer. As I was processing her check, she began to tell me how awful the last few days had been for her. As it turns out, she had just come from the hospital where her husband had been admitted for a staph infection. They both lost their jobs in the last two weeks, and to top it off, she had put her dog down yesterday.

(I…AM…A…JERK!)

Ever since then I have tried to take on a new perspective. My old perspective was very cynical. I originally thought the lady in the store was just trying to assert her importance. It was also narcissistic: she was staying because she didn’t want me to be able to get off work on time. If I would have tried on my new perspective in this circumstance, I would have seen that she was probably shopping in order to let off some steam, and that if she heard the announcement, this store was a refuge for her for the time being. More likely, she was so distracted by the tragedies in her life that she didn’t even hear the closing announcement.

The more I see this self-absorbed, self-importance, narcissism in myself, the more I see it in the way others treat me, and therefore, I hate it even more that the same attitude exists in me. In his book, “Deliver Us from Me-Ville,” David Zimmerman makes a good point about how we relate to others. He says that we relate to others based on what we understand best: our own attitudes about things.

It’s so important to remember that each person has their own reasons and attitudes the way they treat you, whether they’re being rude, or abrupt, or abrasive, even whether they're smiling, laughing, and being friendly. And for the most part, that reason has nothing to do with you.