I don't like the new manager. I don't like him because he's new and because he's a manager and because he's not Steve. But the offensive atrocities of these circumstances palled once he committed a far more egregious error.
He introduced himself to me.
Without Regina, I might add.
Now, you may be thinking, "Why, Nik, is that such a big deal? He was just being polite."
WRONG.
First of all, let me precede this by saying that I am cripplingly shy. You may not believe that, but it's the truth. I despise meeting new people. New people are..... mysterious and dangerous, as far as I'm concerned. Who knows what their objective is? Maybe it's to hurt you. Maybe it's to interfere. Maybe it's to steal your pets in the middle of the night and disembowel them. Who knows? No one! And for that reason, strangers absolutely terrify me. It's like the shut-off-your-light-and-run-to-your-bed-before-the-darkness-gets-you fear, only it doesn't go away.
And this new guy comes up to me and puts his hand out, as though I'm supposed to touch it....
What part of my hunched shoulders, head down, staring at my feet with my body oriented away from him did he not understand? He deliberately came into my aisle [I know because he went right back to his display after he molested my peace of mind] to do this. I stood there, a look somewhere between terror and resentment plastered on my face, before extending my arm in a vague sort of way and mumbling one of my names. Not "Nik", I assure you, because I like that name and I do not like the new guy.
And then, --oh, it gets worse-- he forgot Steve's name. "I'm replacing....uh.... your old EXA."
I spoke the first and last words I would say to him all night. "Steve. You mean Steve." Then he walked away jovially and I had to remind myself to wipe the appalled look off my face, lest he turn around and see it.
***
This is a tragedy, I assure you. The next few months are going to be devastating.
Oh, and Steve, if you're reading this, I'm mad at you. Still.
The name is Nik.
"Then, all of a sudden, something very spooky started happening. Every time I came to the end of a block and stepped off the goddam curb, I had this feeling that I’d never get to the other side of the street. I thought I’d just go down, down, down, and nobody’d ever see me again."
-Holden Caulfield, The Catcher in the Rye
I don't like the new manager. I don't like him because he's new and because he's a manager and because he's not Steve. But the offensive atrocities of these circumstances palled once he committed a far more egregious error.
He introduced himself to me.
Without Regina, I might add.
Now, you may be thinking, "Why, Nik, is that such a big deal? He was just being polite."
WRONG.
First of all, let me precede this by saying that I am cripplingly shy. You may not believe that, but it's the truth. I despise meeting new people. New people are..... mysterious and dangerous, as far as I'm concerned. Who knows what their objective is? Maybe it's to hurt you. Maybe it's to interfere. Maybe it's to steal your pets in the middle of the night and disembowel them. Who knows? No one! And for that reason, strangers absolutely terrify me. It's like the shut-off-your-light-and-run-to-your-bed-before-the-darkness-gets-you fear, only it doesn't go away.
And this new guy comes up to me and puts his hand out, as though I'm supposed to touch it....
What part of my hunched shoulders, head down, staring at my feet with my body oriented away from him did he not understand? He deliberately came into my aisle [I know because he went right back to his display after he molested my peace of mind] to do this. I stood there, a look somewhere between terror and resentment plastered on my face, before extending my arm in a vague sort of way and mumbling one of my names. Not "Nik", I assure you, because I like that name and I do not like the new guy.
And then, --oh, it gets worse-- he forgot Steve's name. "I'm replacing....uh.... your old EXA."
I spoke the first and last words I would say to him all night. "Steve. You mean Steve." Then he walked away jovially and I had to remind myself to wipe the appalled look off my face, lest he turn around and see it.
***
This is a tragedy, I assure you. The next few months are going to be devastating.
Oh, and Steve, if you're reading this, I'm mad at you. Still.
