When I worked at the Block Island Grocery, we had one customer who used to come in regularly five minutes before closing and take his sweet time doing his shopping for the week. I tried very hard to be understanding. After all, he was a local, and owned a small business himself. I assumed he simply couldn’t get to the store before then, and maybe felt a little embarrassed that his last-minute antics were causing frustration for so many—after all, we couldn’t start mopping floors or cashing out registers until he left. He was costing my employer overtime, and costing the pub I visited regularly a beer or two, since he was cutting into my drinking time. But surely he had his reasons, so I smiled and greeted him every time he came in, biting back my frustration.
Then the summer came.
At the BIG, the hours always changed when tourist season began. Instead of closing at six, we’d stay open until eight or nine to accommodate the late ferries. That first summer I was manning the register after our hours changed, in walked last-minute Larry at five of six. He seemed to sense immediately something was up, maybe because I hadn’t flinched as I smiled. “What’s going on?” he asked, eyes scanning the bustling grocery. “Did your hours change?” And sure enough, two days later, he strolled in at five of nine, grabbing a carriage for a good, long shop.
Mean people suck.
Why do some make it their daily mission to deliberately make the lives of others miserable? I used to make excuses for people like this. Surely they had a terrible upbringing, or were going through something horrible in their personal lives. Maybe they were walking around with an especially painful ingrown toenail. Who was I to judge?
Except the more I’m around these whiners and curmudgeons, the less I want to deal with them. We all have problems. That most of us choose not to inflict our pain and suffering on those around us makes these jerks even more noticeable. I’ve decided not to deal with them anymore. I wish I could go back in time and tell twenty-three-year-old me to lock up the BIG door five minutes early once in a while.
About three years into my tenure at the grocery store, they renovated. The main entrance moved from the front to the side of the building, and two shiny new full-length windows were installed where the old entrance used to be. Once renovations were complete, we reopened with much fanfare and an especially generous sale on produce.
And true to form, at five of six, up strolled last-minute Larry. He proceeded to smack his face right into those two pretty new windows with a loud thud.
I couldn’t stop myself. I laughed. Then I ran to the new entrance and locked the doors for the night.
Turns out all of us can be mean once in a while.
Then the summer came.
At the BIG, the hours always changed when tourist season began. Instead of closing at six, we’d stay open until eight or nine to accommodate the late ferries. That first summer I was manning the register after our hours changed, in walked last-minute Larry at five of six. He seemed to sense immediately something was up, maybe because I hadn’t flinched as I smiled. “What’s going on?” he asked, eyes scanning the bustling grocery. “Did your hours change?” And sure enough, two days later, he strolled in at five of nine, grabbing a carriage for a good, long shop.
Mean people suck.
Why do some make it their daily mission to deliberately make the lives of others miserable? I used to make excuses for people like this. Surely they had a terrible upbringing, or were going through something horrible in their personal lives. Maybe they were walking around with an especially painful ingrown toenail. Who was I to judge?
Except the more I’m around these whiners and curmudgeons, the less I want to deal with them. We all have problems. That most of us choose not to inflict our pain and suffering on those around us makes these jerks even more noticeable. I’ve decided not to deal with them anymore. I wish I could go back in time and tell twenty-three-year-old me to lock up the BIG door five minutes early once in a while.
About three years into my tenure at the grocery store, they renovated. The main entrance moved from the front to the side of the building, and two shiny new full-length windows were installed where the old entrance used to be. Once renovations were complete, we reopened with much fanfare and an especially generous sale on produce.
And true to form, at five of six, up strolled last-minute Larry. He proceeded to smack his face right into those two pretty new windows with a loud thud.
I couldn’t stop myself. I laughed. Then I ran to the new entrance and locked the doors for the night.
Turns out all of us can be mean once in a while.
You know who you are, Larry.
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