The lady was rude; there was no doubt about that. She was rude in a way that made me physically hurt for the person the rudeness was directed to. My much younger companion, the victim of the remark, swallowed the bait and bit back, with a snotty retort, more to assuage her wounded pride than anything else. I wanted to hide under my shopping cart.
“Just walk away, I pleaded. It’s not worth it, she is an elder, and she may have recently lost her husband or something equally traumatic. I didn’t raise you to behave this way.” Alas, there is only so much you can say to an adult child.
My youngest responded, loudly enough for everyone on the same aisle to hear her “Well, I will report her to management for how she is treating customers, then.” I was mortified as I felt the stares. I loathe confrontation to begin with, and I certainly didn’t like the unforgiving spirit I saw in my precious woman-child. She continued to mumble and complain about Costco and how it’s too full of people and she was never going back as I wondered who she really belonged to and how I could get her out of there before she blew a gasket.
Gently and cautiously, I continued to suggest reasons people behave insensitively and how we give them the benefit of the doubt. She calmed down but when we got close to check-out, she said, “I’m still reporting her”, but I noticed she smiled when she said it. Then she said, “I tell you what, Mom, buy me a hot dog and I won’t say anything.” I said, “Done, while I reached into my wallet and grabbed a bill”.
This was her way of pleasing me without having to admit she had lost the zeal to persecute. This made it look like I had to bribe her to keep her from doing the deed, but she knows I would have bought her the $1 hot dog, either way. I’m calling it a win.
Long walks and dark chocolate 