Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
When I say thank you in response to service, the young baristas respond, “Of course.”
Makes me smile. I remember when I used to respond, “No problem.” Then some elder – he must’ve been fifty or more, and I was pushing through my teens – said, “Whatever happened to ‘you’re welcome’?”
Fifty years later, I understand his lament.
I saw it in their body language and shaded eyes: what does this guy want? Can he be trusted?
Three women, three places, three weeks. I was being friendly. Thought I was charming, as I’ve done all my life. Maybe I was wrong all those years. Now, addressing these women in public places, catching their reactions, I have to re-think matters.
First, it’s their right to not be bothered by others, just as it’s mine. I thought that asking what someone was reading was safe and innocuous as we crossed paths at the coffee shop. She’d previously asked me to watch her purse for her. As a writer and reader, I’m often trying to learn what others are reading. It interests me. But asking this sixty-ish woman clearly disturbed her. Haven’t seen her since when she was a coffee shop regular. I hope I haven’t driven her away. I’m sorry.
I sincerely believed I knew the second woman from another place. I judged her to be in her sixties. She indulged me and responded but clearly thought I was up to something, maybe hitting on her. Sorry, ma’am. I won’t do it again.
I’m used to being flirty. I always thought I was charming. My wife and sisters always told me I was charming. Maybe they were being nice. Polite. Maybe I used to be charming but, older now, it’s no longer charming. Perhaps, because I’m older, it’s perceived as creepy.
Could be that it’s not me at all, but other matters, a product of our times. Women have endured unwanted male attention and assumptions and decided, enough. I’ll note, I do the same with males, chatting with them sometimes about what they’re reading, their accent, or talking to them because I think I might know them.
My wife has spoken of being approached by men in public. For example, she’s working out and a man walking by will tell her with a grin, “Smile.” Pisses her off. She’s exercising and sweating. It’s work. She’s focusing. Smiling is not part of her agenda, and she resents him telling her that because men are always saying things like to women.
I thought what I was doing was different. I guess I was rationalizing it as different and okay.
I quit, though. I’ll keep to my private circle, drop a cone of secrecy around it, only speak when addressed, and keep myself to myself.
This all probably reads like self-pitying whining. That’s not my intention but you’ll reach your own conclusion. I like to write to think through my thoughts. Doesn’t mean I need to post it for the public, but I often find that things which confuse me also confuses others. Or maybe I’m fishing for sympathy and just rationalizing that I’m searching for understanding. It’s a challenge for me because this is how I learned to be from Mom and my wife, polite and friendly. It’s inculcated in me.
I guess this is the new world, at least in progressive Ashlandia, for a sixty-seven-year-old white male. I just need to learn, accept, and adjust.
Despite claiming to be an optimist, I often rail against my fellow humans, politicians, the government, news media, and corporations about the way things are going. So I want to share some small positive moments.
I live in the small town of Ashland, Oregon. I’ve always enjoyed walking, including taking the steps instead of using elevators or escalators. It doesn’t always make me popular with my wife, but she grits her teeth and goes along with it.
This has nothing to do with steps, though. This is about drivers. While I’ve experienced several near misses each year while using crosswalks (and the number of near misses seem to be increasing), there are people who are the opposite. Example are shopping center and business exits. Because of line sights, drivers are forced to roll forward, covering sidewalks and crosswalks to see if it’s safe for them to proceed. This sometimes blocks my way as a pedestrian. I usually plan to wait or pass behind their cars, but this week, drivers are backing up to let me go by, putting down their windows, waving and calling out apologies.
I hope that it’s picked up by more drivers and starts trending upward across the country.
I probably ranted about this before, because I’m a natural ranter.
While inconsiderate/inattentive drivers have long commanded a top spot on my pet peeve register, a new one has steadily climbed the chart. Now I find myself annoyed with people walking while looking at their phone. Don’t know what they’re considering on it – videos, photos, games, text messages, whatever. I guess they think they’re multi-tasking.
Doesn’t matter. What matters to me is that others must move aside for these self-absorbed individuals as they silently peruse stuff while walking. I’m tired of standing aside for these people who don’t even acknowledge others with excuse me or thank you. I’ve now just taken to stopping in their path — which is my path — forcing their attention away from the phone and into the world. And then, when they realize I’m there, I say, “Excuse me.”
I know. It’s petty. Passive aggressive. I accept that. I’m just fed up with standing aside for them. Let them stand aside for me.
A college-aged woman entered the coffee shope as he was walking toward the door to leave. Seizing the door, she held it open from inside, pushing it out — or tried, as the door slid closed, mocking the angle and effort she made. Besides that, she was inside, which didn’t leave much space for him to pass in the narrow space.
But he appreciated the effort and sprang forward, catching the door’s edge, relieving her of the duty, smiled, and said, “Thank you,” because that’s how it was all done.
But he wondered, what were doors like in the past that people make such an effort to hold them ajar for one another? Must have been massive, heavy beasts. It was another matter to research.
Michael Seidel, writer 