Small battles...
I went to return a book today at Patty’s, the used bookstore off campus. It was nice enough outside that I decided to ride my bike and perhaps adjourn on a bit of grass somewhere to complete my readings for tomorrow. And then, the wonderful feel-good mood that had been living inside me was squashed by the greeting I received upon my arrival at Patty’s.
Like one might expect, I had my receipt and student id with me, tucked carelessly inside the book I was returning. After explaining to the lady stationed behind the register exactly how she could be of service, I received a hesitant look and was informed that I needed it approved first. And so I followed her finger that pointed to the left wing of the entrance, letting my eyes rest one the man with the power to do so.
It doesn’t matter what he physically looked like, all you need to know is that he looked upset. His mouth was set in a determined frown, and his eyes glared at me in disbelief that I had the audacity to want to return a useless book. Before I had the opportunity to tell him my problem, his voice boomed, “Why are you returning this so late?!” He was angry. I couldn’t believe it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that the deadline was up….is it?” I squeaked out, looking quickly behind me for support that was not there. God is that MY voice? It’s only the second week of classes; I couldn’t have missed the cutoff to return…
“That’s why you should read your return policy. Why are you returning this?!” he demanded.
And the voice within was silenced. All I felt was dread. Thinking I had offended him gravely I quickly apologized for disturbing him and shuffled out the door.
A few minutes later, at the Kum &Go on Franklin, I patiently waited behind a Phi Lamda Chi to fill up the air in my bicycle tires. I hardly noticed when the stocky Phi guy offered the hose out to me---the pump still running. I was too busy replaying the scene before in my mind. He cleared his throat and offered a smile and as I reached out my hand towards him the confusion in my head cleared, and something in me snapped. The dread that weighted down my stomach at my earlier transgression began to simmer, slowly it rankled my innards, as I became angrier and angrier. I was mad at the man for affronting me when he should have offered a smile and an understanding ear. But more so, I was mad at myself--for being such a pushover and letting him bully me out of the store when I was in the right.
I’m a fucking CUSTOMER! I’ve always spent my money at his store, when I knowingly could go elsewhere and get my books cheaper! I bought 34 books from them this semester. Did I ASK for the clerks help gathering them? NO. I’m a fucking senior. I can get my own goddamn books. She INSISTED on helping, and just because she grabbed a book that wasn’t on any of my class rosters, I sheepishly took that abuse from him?! What kind of business man is he to treat me like that? What kind of pussy am I ?! Goddamnit… I’ve got to stop letting people do this to me. Fuck him. I want my money!
And just as suddenly as I had relented to the man inside the store, I was placing my bike against the concrete wall outside Patty’s. But before I could walk towards the shadowy glass door, I had to struggle with doubt. Is this really worth it? I thought, and began digging through my satchel for the receipt to check how much money the book was worth. You’re goddamn right it’s worth it! Take a fucking stand. It doesn’t matter the cost of the book! What about the cost of your dignity?!
I couldn’t think as I walked in the door, I was too busy practicing what I would say when I bitched the guy out. I looked at the cashier’s confused face and asked “Where is he? Is HE gone?”
Don’t puss out now, and don’t play for pacification. YOU are the boss. I had to ignore the doubt that arose immediately after I finished the thought.
“Is he with a customer?” I asked. Part of me wanted her to say yes, so I could back away and run. Run out the door, and cry at the injustice of life.
“Nah, he’s just shootin’ the shit” she replied. Her eyes darted up the wooden stairs to another wing of the store.
I watched my feet in slow motion as I marched up the stairway, numb. I turned the corner and looked directly into his eyes. If he gave an outward sign of recognition that my mood had changed, I failed to notice it. I was too busy clinging to this newly attained mettle.
“Didn’t take you long” he grunted, raising his eyebrows in an almost friendly nature.
“Yeah, well I was put on the defense as soon as I opened my mouth,” I spat back.
Bravo. Don’t worry he can’t hear the quiver in your voice. Now scowl for a second.
“Look man, here’s the deal…” I rushed on; afraid he might interrupt. “I bought a ton of books here last week, and the only reason I have this one is because one of your employees insisted on helping me. I’m a senior, I’m taking all upper level English classes this semester and I don’t need this book on how to revise a paper.”
“Why didn’t you return it on time?” he asked. This time his voice was calm and I didn’t feel threatened.
I snorted a bit, exclaiming, “Because I have 34 books this semester!” I made sure to annunciate the number and poked my hand in the air for added emphasis. “I didn’t notice it wasn’t on any of my syllabi until just recently. I’m not the one who made a mistake and I’m not leaving until I get my money.”
At this, his eyebrows rose to the roots of his hairline and he just stared at me for a minute. Don’t waver now. You can win this. I reassured myself. But I wasn’t sure at all. I’ve never been good at confrontations. Just as I began to feel the doubt pulling me down, he reached out and took my receipt, circled the price, and pointed me towards the cashier.
That’s IT?! I won? What the fuck?
When was it that I became such a fucking pushover---a Yes-man who actually cared about what people thought? While I am proud of my small win today, I can’t help but feel sick at the bitter-sweet taste off it all. It was a small victory, but one I shouldn’t have to fight-especially when I am the enemy.
Like one might expect, I had my receipt and student id with me, tucked carelessly inside the book I was returning. After explaining to the lady stationed behind the register exactly how she could be of service, I received a hesitant look and was informed that I needed it approved first. And so I followed her finger that pointed to the left wing of the entrance, letting my eyes rest one the man with the power to do so.
It doesn’t matter what he physically looked like, all you need to know is that he looked upset. His mouth was set in a determined frown, and his eyes glared at me in disbelief that I had the audacity to want to return a useless book. Before I had the opportunity to tell him my problem, his voice boomed, “Why are you returning this so late?!” He was angry. I couldn’t believe it.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that the deadline was up….is it?” I squeaked out, looking quickly behind me for support that was not there. God is that MY voice? It’s only the second week of classes; I couldn’t have missed the cutoff to return…
“That’s why you should read your return policy. Why are you returning this?!” he demanded.
And the voice within was silenced. All I felt was dread. Thinking I had offended him gravely I quickly apologized for disturbing him and shuffled out the door.
A few minutes later, at the Kum &Go on Franklin, I patiently waited behind a Phi Lamda Chi to fill up the air in my bicycle tires. I hardly noticed when the stocky Phi guy offered the hose out to me---the pump still running. I was too busy replaying the scene before in my mind. He cleared his throat and offered a smile and as I reached out my hand towards him the confusion in my head cleared, and something in me snapped. The dread that weighted down my stomach at my earlier transgression began to simmer, slowly it rankled my innards, as I became angrier and angrier. I was mad at the man for affronting me when he should have offered a smile and an understanding ear. But more so, I was mad at myself--for being such a pushover and letting him bully me out of the store when I was in the right.
I’m a fucking CUSTOMER! I’ve always spent my money at his store, when I knowingly could go elsewhere and get my books cheaper! I bought 34 books from them this semester. Did I ASK for the clerks help gathering them? NO. I’m a fucking senior. I can get my own goddamn books. She INSISTED on helping, and just because she grabbed a book that wasn’t on any of my class rosters, I sheepishly took that abuse from him?! What kind of business man is he to treat me like that? What kind of pussy am I ?! Goddamnit… I’ve got to stop letting people do this to me. Fuck him. I want my money!
And just as suddenly as I had relented to the man inside the store, I was placing my bike against the concrete wall outside Patty’s. But before I could walk towards the shadowy glass door, I had to struggle with doubt. Is this really worth it? I thought, and began digging through my satchel for the receipt to check how much money the book was worth. You’re goddamn right it’s worth it! Take a fucking stand. It doesn’t matter the cost of the book! What about the cost of your dignity?!
I couldn’t think as I walked in the door, I was too busy practicing what I would say when I bitched the guy out. I looked at the cashier’s confused face and asked “Where is he? Is HE gone?”
Don’t puss out now, and don’t play for pacification. YOU are the boss. I had to ignore the doubt that arose immediately after I finished the thought.
“Is he with a customer?” I asked. Part of me wanted her to say yes, so I could back away and run. Run out the door, and cry at the injustice of life.
“Nah, he’s just shootin’ the shit” she replied. Her eyes darted up the wooden stairs to another wing of the store.
I watched my feet in slow motion as I marched up the stairway, numb. I turned the corner and looked directly into his eyes. If he gave an outward sign of recognition that my mood had changed, I failed to notice it. I was too busy clinging to this newly attained mettle.
“Didn’t take you long” he grunted, raising his eyebrows in an almost friendly nature.
“Yeah, well I was put on the defense as soon as I opened my mouth,” I spat back.
Bravo. Don’t worry he can’t hear the quiver in your voice. Now scowl for a second.
“Look man, here’s the deal…” I rushed on; afraid he might interrupt. “I bought a ton of books here last week, and the only reason I have this one is because one of your employees insisted on helping me. I’m a senior, I’m taking all upper level English classes this semester and I don’t need this book on how to revise a paper.”
“Why didn’t you return it on time?” he asked. This time his voice was calm and I didn’t feel threatened.
I snorted a bit, exclaiming, “Because I have 34 books this semester!” I made sure to annunciate the number and poked my hand in the air for added emphasis. “I didn’t notice it wasn’t on any of my syllabi until just recently. I’m not the one who made a mistake and I’m not leaving until I get my money.”
At this, his eyebrows rose to the roots of his hairline and he just stared at me for a minute. Don’t waver now. You can win this. I reassured myself. But I wasn’t sure at all. I’ve never been good at confrontations. Just as I began to feel the doubt pulling me down, he reached out and took my receipt, circled the price, and pointed me towards the cashier.
That’s IT?! I won? What the fuck?
When was it that I became such a fucking pushover---a Yes-man who actually cared about what people thought? While I am proud of my small win today, I can’t help but feel sick at the bitter-sweet taste off it all. It was a small victory, but one I shouldn’t have to fight-especially when I am the enemy.