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Tonight I was in the backroom moving some stock around to make it easier for the poor saps who have to go in at 6 tommorow morning to put out since it was about an hour until it was time to go get ready to close the store down and I had nothing to do. It had been fairly quiet, not too many people looking for the bathrooms tonight and I was pretty much by myself.
I picked up a heavy case of canned peaches or pears or something, I don't remember, and was turning around to put it on one of our blue sixwheeled carts when the case slipped out of my hands and landed straight on my toe that has been trying to grow in on me for a few weeks now. Needless to say, this was a very painful experience.
I'm not normally one to cuss, usually I have to be very angry, but a stream of curses that would've made a sailor blush flowed out of my mouth. But it wasn't a big deal, I was back there by myself. Or so I thought.
As I was leaning up against a stack of boxes, my head hanging trying to see through the blinding pain I heard a sweet innocent childs voice repeat one particular nasty thing I said. And then another. At that moment I knew fear, because I knew that somewhere near that sweet innocent voice would be a very angry parent. It would have to be that way, if it wasn't that would mean that the apocolypse was nigh. The parents of little chlidren are only good parents when I do something very bad.
I take a second to steele myself against that inevitble onslaught of righteous parental wrath. I look up and towards where I heard to voice come from. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. I didn't see anger, I knew there would be no shouting, no demanding to my manager that I be immediately fired. That I could have handled, taken in stride, shrugged off and continued on with my day. What I saw on the face of the parent of the once innocent toddler was hurt.
She never said a word, she just looked at me as best as she was able to from behind an oversized pair of dark sunglasses that just barely didn't cover her blackened eyes. The bruise on her cheek could never have been hidden but she had tried anyway. What was most telling, however, was the long sleeve shirt on this bright and hot day.
I was speechless, so we just stood there, staring at each other for another moment. When I finally did speak all I found I could bring myself to say were directions to the restrooms. As soon as she had left my line of vision I exited as quickly as I could, just short of a run. I needed to sit down, and have a ciggarette and collect my thought.
When I walked back inside I noticed she was still in the store so I found the number to a womans shelter in our phonebook and wrote it down and slipped in her purse when she looked away, and then got her attention and stammered out an apology. She didn't respond except to very quietly ask where a product was, so I directed her to it and left.
I really hope that I misjudged the isituation but I get the feeling I didn't, and I really hope that nothing happens due to my vocabulary indiscretion.
I picked up a heavy case of canned peaches or pears or something, I don't remember, and was turning around to put it on one of our blue sixwheeled carts when the case slipped out of my hands and landed straight on my toe that has been trying to grow in on me for a few weeks now. Needless to say, this was a very painful experience.
I'm not normally one to cuss, usually I have to be very angry, but a stream of curses that would've made a sailor blush flowed out of my mouth. But it wasn't a big deal, I was back there by myself. Or so I thought.
As I was leaning up against a stack of boxes, my head hanging trying to see through the blinding pain I heard a sweet innocent childs voice repeat one particular nasty thing I said. And then another. At that moment I knew fear, because I knew that somewhere near that sweet innocent voice would be a very angry parent. It would have to be that way, if it wasn't that would mean that the apocolypse was nigh. The parents of little chlidren are only good parents when I do something very bad.
I take a second to steele myself against that inevitble onslaught of righteous parental wrath. I look up and towards where I heard to voice come from. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. I didn't see anger, I knew there would be no shouting, no demanding to my manager that I be immediately fired. That I could have handled, taken in stride, shrugged off and continued on with my day. What I saw on the face of the parent of the once innocent toddler was hurt.
She never said a word, she just looked at me as best as she was able to from behind an oversized pair of dark sunglasses that just barely didn't cover her blackened eyes. The bruise on her cheek could never have been hidden but she had tried anyway. What was most telling, however, was the long sleeve shirt on this bright and hot day.
I was speechless, so we just stood there, staring at each other for another moment. When I finally did speak all I found I could bring myself to say were directions to the restrooms. As soon as she had left my line of vision I exited as quickly as I could, just short of a run. I needed to sit down, and have a ciggarette and collect my thought.
When I walked back inside I noticed she was still in the store so I found the number to a womans shelter in our phonebook and wrote it down and slipped in her purse when she looked away, and then got her attention and stammered out an apology. She didn't respond except to very quietly ask where a product was, so I directed her to it and left.
I really hope that I misjudged the isituation but I get the feeling I didn't, and I really hope that nothing happens due to my vocabulary indiscretion.
Always makes me so sad that I can't just take people like that home with me and protect them.
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