a woman with her baby walks in the deli/cellular retailer
snaps at the store employee
when he tells her, that the famous amos cookies are $1.25
"they sell deese uptown for fity cents, you know dat?! a dollah twenteefih... I don't got a dollah twenteefih, I got a dollah."
the store employee and his coworker looks away in silence
her toddler tries to open the stubborn packaging
the woman barks,
"you're gonnah help me wih dat while I wait?!"
she is referring to her smart phone
he says "yes." then he adds, "I'm just finishing up with this customer here."
"I'm AXSING you, you're gonnah help me wih dat hea?"
he hesitates before answering in the affirmative.
I turn to look at her. Our eyes meet.
now some people are going to say her rudeness is a matter of class, a matter of education.
where I am at, in my professional life, I'm inclined to disagree.
She's doing it because she can. She's doing it because she can.
it is extremely difficult being an object.
it is extremely difficult to be numb to the harshness of others,
be it intentional or not.
to seek the sources of intentions.
to communicate one's subjectivity.
to shut down these sensitivities make me feel as if I am dead already.
I do not believe in a world of objects -
of objects pushing objects, while some, at one time or another, having become objects of power, sets & reinforces the status quo, without care for the humans underneath their object (body) exterior. I keep hoping, despite evidence to the contrary, that I am not already living in it - that my struggles are merely matters of perspective...
come another day,
when I will find light & color in others again.
come. come.
