Tuesday, November 22, 2016
I Was Wrong, and I'm Sorry, Sir
I was rushing through and spotted an opening at a register and sped toward it when I saw an old man doddering toward the short line, holding one small bottle of spice ... cinnamon, I think. I pulled up, looked at him and said, "Why don't you go ahead of me. You won't take long and I'm not in that much of a hurry." He smiled and said, "Thank you, sir," pleasantly. That's when I noticed the white TRUMP hat with the navy lettering. Oh, shit, I thought.
I stood there silently grumbling to myself as the old man enthusiastically engaged in a conversation about gardening with the pleasant black woman ahead of him in the line. I thought, "That old man hates you because of your color, lady," but I didn't say it. Thank god.
As the woman bid him au revoir, he turned to me, looked at my few items of groceries, faced the cashier and said, "Put that on my bill." I was stopped in mid-nasty-thought. "Oh, no-no-no-no-no-no," I said. "You don't need to do that."
"But I want to," he said, about as warmly as a human person can say it. I know I turned bright red and my eyes went to my feet, full frontal embarrassed. Here I was making all these assumptions about this lovely man because he wore a hat that pushes me into all kinds of nasty thoughts.
I was wrong and I'm sorry. I'm glad the old man didn't know what I was thinking, but my guess is it wouldn't have bothered him. He would have bought my groceries anyway.