The other day, I was picking up a prescription from the pharmacy counter at Publix.
I’ve always thought of prescriptions as a rather personal thing. You know the pharmacist has a lot of power with all the information they have in their database. They know why you may be taking the drugs they’re issuing you. It seems most folks uphold the modicum of privacy when it comes to transactions at the pharmacy counter, leaving a respectful distance (albeit framed by impatience!) between themselves and whomever is waiting ahead.
I was mid-transaction. I’d signed for my prescription and was about to get the goods and pay, when a man around 50 years old basically sidled up NEXT TO ME. My defense mechanisms sounded the alarms. I had a grocery basket on the counter in front of me for my drugs to go in after I’d paid for them as I still had some shopping to do. The encroacher put his basket on the counter NEXT TO MINE. The hell? All of this silently went down and I shot the dude a nasty look to tell him to step away, but he wouldn’t even look at me. He instead gazed at the pharmacist. I paid, being sure to cover his view of my card PIN, and shot him one final withering glance that told him where he and his drugs could go, and I walked away. Creep.
Why do I write about this? Because I have never been one to make mean faces at people to show my disdain for them. I never would have done that in the past. I might even get to the point where I could vocalize my displeasure to future encroachers to not stand so close to me. (“Don’t stand, don’t stand so, don’t stand so close to me.”)
Seriously. Dude. Back the F off.
This means I am changing! This is ultimately a good thing, I think. I hope.
It’s kind of fun, expressing myself with my real emotions rather than spending energy covering them. In the past, I would have tried to rationalize the man’s behavior rather than instantly concluding his behavior was inappropriate and doing something to let him know it. I would have told myself to calm down, that maybe he has some sort of social disorder or mental disorder. I’d try to find some way to forgive him for this lack of respect. This time, though, I didn’t process all of that and instead shot him a mean look. It would have been ideal if he had seen the mean look, but at least I did it. I let the world know I felt.