You ever have one of those totally insignificant moments that just makes you stop and remember again how totally insignificant we all are together, emphasis on the together part? I think sometimes I totally forget the bigger picture, that no matter what we believe in, who we are, how we are, where, any of it, we’re all on this big rock together, right now, and that, in the scheme of things, is a pretty significant.
I was at a store the other day, grabbed a few things I needed, a few things I didn’t and went to check out. As I stepped into the line I caught the very tail end of the man in front of me saying to the check out lady, “…that’s all I’m saying.” And then it was my turn.
As I was checking out I noticed that the check-out lady was a bit shaky and not making eye contact. Finally, when all was said and done, even though nothing had been said, she looked up and attempted to say, “Have a nice day.” But she barely made it passed nice before she let out the saddest little cry. It was just so sudden and strange and real and human that I didn’t know what to do with any of it. And the lighting was weird and the folks behind me froze up. My first squashed instinct was to jump behind the counter and give this poor gal a hug and say, “look, I’ll take over for a bit, go get some fresh air.” But really, that would have been a crazy thing to do, which I find crazy. My helping this woman take a little break would have been a totally strange thing to do. Isn’t that strange? Isn’t it strange that some sort of engaged effort to help her would have made me seem and feel a bit nuts? So, instead I asked the obvious as I swiped my debit card, “Having one of those days, huh?” just to offer a very basic acknowledgment of her out of place tears.
The check out lady was still staring at the ground when she said, “That guy was just mean to me, for no reason. Sometimes it’s too much, you know?” I responded with, “Of course it’s too much. I’m sorry that guy was mean to you.” She smiled a little bit and I grabbed my bag of stuff and headed to the parking lot.
As I was walking to my car I saw the guy who was supposedly the impetus for the poor lady’s tears. I felt this flush in my chest. That one where I’m not totally sure I should do what I’m about to do but I also know I’m going to regardless. But what an asshole. He makes her cry, she’s stuck there and he just gets to walk away. So, as he attempted to drive away I stepped in front of his car and glared at him. He rolled down the window and looked at me. It immediately turned into a stare off: a game I am practiced in and have championed many a times. And yes, I was totally exposed standing in front of a car with a dude who is clearly not afraid to make someone cry but I just stood there, saying nothing, glaring at him.
Finally he said, “What the hell is your problem?” (This means I won the staring contest, by the way.)
“You made her cry. Just so you don’t get to drive off all free and clear, or maybe that’s what you were after.”
He leaned his head way out of the window and said, “Listen. You don’t know shit. Get out of the way.”
And then I thought, “Ok Jesse, this is escalating. This is you and your small bag of stuff versus a big dude in a big car…what now?” So I stayed put and opened my mouth again, “Who the hell do you think you are really? You really don’t care that some woman who is stuck behind a counter is crying right now because of you? Even if you are just an asshole, you really don’t feel even just a little bit bad about that?” At this point I just assumed he’d tell me to fuck off and then I’d flip him off and we’d all get on with our day. But instead he pulled up closer and very calmly said, “Look, I didn’t mean to make her cry. I would never try to do that. You need to move now.”
At this point I had my deer-in-headlights look going full blaze and said back in a sort of grumpy, shocked voice, “Ok… well, um, she is. So, what now?” Again I assumed he’d do or say something to attempt to intimidate me or hurt my feelings but instead he launched into an explanation full of sincerity and openness. The details of the situation are actually rather moot, the gist being, in his own words, he “felt like I wasn’t getting the attention I needed.” Apparently, the check out lady was having a conversation with someone else, making his check out experience feel like it was taking way too long and “like I was invisible.” His feelings were hurt so he told the check out lady that he thought it was rude that she was ignoring him. She got defensive. He got defensive. He said, “Well, I’ll make sure to avoid your line in the future.” Check out lady started to cry. Then I stepped in line.
As he was explaining his side of the story he started most of his sentences with, “It was upsetting me that…” and “my feelings were hurt that she continued to ignore me…” This big dude in his big car, who had just made the check out lady at the store cry was sharing his feelings with this random little dyke who just yelled at him and then blocked him in in a covered parking lot by standing in front of his car and refusing to move.
And if you’ve made it this far in the story I have a feeling this whole scene might seem and sound a bit moot. But living in Seattle I am in a social climate where if you are walking down the street and you try to acknowledge another human being most of the time you will be totally ignored or they will shoot you a dirty look like, “Why are you looking at me? Why would you do something like that?” So, this strange and brief and authentically human interaction with a few other folks just made me pause for a second.
When I think about it, it creeps me out how much intention and effort we put out there to stay eerily distant from each other. And although this whole scenario was quite strange and the context of the story is mostly irrelevant, it was a genuine interaction with the world and that’s all too rare, so, I’ll take it.
On that same note, the note where we are all so guarded that we have no idea what to do when another person we don’t know creates a totally authentic moment- note, here is a fine example. (It’s a wee 18 seconds for all of you attention-fearing folks):

15 comments
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August 17, 2010 at 1:05 pm
Blazer
Damn I enjoy reading your stories. For one thing, it is amazing what kind of chaos you can stir up with one trip to the market or the home improvement store. For another, your stories point out what usually goes unnoticed by the average person. And lastly, you are a great damn writer! More please!
August 17, 2010 at 1:08 pm
jesse james
This is why it was totally worth it to start paying you to comment here. I’ll get that check in the mail. Thanks Blazer.
August 17, 2010 at 1:10 pm
FG
wow, that’s really intense. i totally wasn’t expecting him to have a side of the story, and to tell you in a measured, articulate way what it was. there’s no way to know what happened, if it was an expression of his privilege, if she was ready to cry anyway and he just tipped her over the edge…but i’m glad you said something.
ps i miss you!
August 17, 2010 at 3:54 pm
jesse james
Right. And when you really start to break down the different dynamics the whole story gets even more complicated. To spare a 10 paged post I left out the fact that the characters were me: small, very dyke-looking-dyke in a not so queer friendly area / check out lady: tall, thin, 40-something / dude: stocky, person of color, late 20-something. All of this only added to the mild chaos of trying to be real in several very real moments.
ps. You too. Let’s make it a point to catch up.
August 17, 2010 at 2:26 pm
Jolie
What an incredible experience. Thanks for sharing it with us.
It seems like I never leave your page without something to think about – which is one of my favorite things to find in a blogger.
Being open and authentic with strangers can be incredibly difficult; I gotta respect the guy for taking the time to address you with intention that way.
And much credit to you, for taking the time to validate the check-out lady’s feelings, to do offer a defense of her in the parking lot!
August 17, 2010 at 4:12 pm
rienici
I grew up thinking we were supposed to be guarded, therefore I am. It sucks, to the point where it seems you need courage to talk to someone else.
It’s refreshing to see and occasionally meet people who are genuine… lately I’ve been getting that fix from sites like Postsecret, Makes Me Think and Gives Me Hope. And your blog, apparently!
Take care! o/
August 17, 2010 at 9:19 pm
Roxy
Wow. I’m in awe at your bravery for literally standing up for what you believe. Beyond just being authentic, you extended the opportunity to two other people who had already put up their force fields, and inspired others by writing about it.
That’s beyond awesome.
August 18, 2010 at 7:54 am
greg
You stood in front of the car and you would not leave until you were given an actual emotion from that stranger. You are so amazing and I’m glad you shared this story just so I could tell you how amazing I think you are.
My wish is that there was a window in that store so she could have seen what you did for her. I also wish that that man goes back in that store at some point and goes specifically on her line so they could both share a better moment together.
Also, I want to find that woman in the clip you shared and tell her how much I love her.
That’s all.
August 18, 2010 at 7:55 am
Tina-cious.com
I loved every bit of this story.
And… if I may… love you just a bit more for having been a character within it.
August 18, 2010 at 10:37 am
ladybrettashley
i heart you.
August 18, 2010 at 12:16 pm
e
I wish I could spend a few days riding around in your pocket and chatting about what we see and do. You are an amazing person, jesse james.
xoxoxo
August 18, 2010 at 6:44 pm
dykeevolution
So, I’m having a mentally exhausting day. I have big life decisions all of a sudden that need to be made in a very short period of time and I just spent a few hours with my great grandmother, who has dementia, trying to tell her where her ass is located so that she can wipe it properly. I cry a little bit in the car on my way home so I’m teetering emotionally already. I shouldn’t even be on the computer, I should be in bed, because I’m so incredibly exhausted but I decide to open up my google reader to read a few blogs so I can stop thinking about my own mess for a little while.
I read this and I’m just too emotional so I cry about it. I cry because she’s just trying to do her job, a job she probably doesn’t get paid a lot to do. I cry because people can be so mean. It’s not fair. I cry because you’re stubborn and kind and so you stand up for her. I cry because his feelings got hurt too, and it just goes to show we’re all teetering on a little bit of emotional unbalance sometimes. I think we call it being human.
Thanks for the story, JJ. And for letting me have a mini therapist session about myself on your blog that I should probably be directing to my own.
August 20, 2010 at 10:12 am
Daddy Rhon
It’s you that made it real for the both of them, you know.
August 22, 2010 at 6:24 pm
Vikki
Sometimes, I think we all just want and need to be seen.
August 30, 2010 at 2:36 pm
Kyle
Huh.. I thought I’d already commented…
anyhow, wow, I’m impressed by you and proud of you for not letting this opportunity pass. Damn, my heart would have been pounding in my chest. I was thinking about you this weekend when I listened to Mr. Testosterone yell at his young son about being a sissy and an embarrassment. Unlike you, I stayed out of it and I’m feeling a bit ashamed that I didn’t show the balls you did.