Public Interaction

Cashier: You look like you’re having a bad day.

Me: No. I always look like this.

Cashier: You look mad.

Me: And people who walk around grinning all the time look like idiots.

π™Άπš›πš’πš—πš—πš’πš—πš πš’πšπš’πš˜πšπšœ. π™½πš˜πš 𝚝𝚘 πš‹πšŽ πšπš›πšžπšœπšπšŽπš.


I’m actually a very friendly person.

I stop to help a lot.

If the situation is right, I’ll stop to help folks on the side of the roadβ€”mostly women. I know, that’s sounds bad, but hear me out.

If a guy gets in a car, he needs to know how to change his tire; he needs to have changed the oil several times so that he knows where the dipstick is. He needs to know what’s happening when the temperature needle rises into the red. He needs to know what’s going on if any number of things happen. These things used to be expected of a guy driving a vehicle. Women, not so much.

Now I know there are tons of women who know all these things, but the majority of the population of women do not.

That sounds sexist; I don’t care. It’s true.

Unfortunately, it’s becoming true of men as well.

My wife can change her tire; she can troubleshoot electrical problems, she knows when the temperature gauge starts rising that something is up (pun intended).

All that to say this, unless it’s a wreck or I see blood, I will drive right on past young men. They should be able to handle themselves.

The older man, I will stop and help because they are elderly. And they may very well tell me to take a hike. But I will have at least tried.

When I’m working, I always ask if people need assistance. I try to at least put on a friendly face which does take effort. When I’m working I’m concentrating on what I’m doing, and that takes away from the concentrating on the act of looking approachable.

Basically, don’t read into appearances is what I’m trying to say. Be more considerate of the fact that people have a lot more going on than just your immediate concerns.

Except for the grinning idiots, probably not a lot going on up there.

That’s it. That’s the post.


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