Hi, all, that is to say, my dear blog of general invisibility. I'm currently hanging out on the opposite coast, in the (not) sunny state of (not) warm California. Touring San Fransisco for the weekend, which is gorgeous, foggy, and not the sort of place you want to wear capris. Anyway, I thought it was time for another random non-writing-related blog post.
So when I'm home for the holidays I work in the city, at a company that manufactures infectious diseases for research use. (Yes, you read that right: I work for a company that makes viruses. The human kind. Which is pretty awesome bragging rights, even if I'm just Paperwork Girl.) This company is located on the Medical Campus - not a college campus, just an area that has a lot of (bio)medical companies/facilities - which is an...unusual part of town, to say the least. On the one hand, you have all the doctors and interns and businesspeople heading to work, to lunch, to their car, etc. On the other, you have a bunch of, uh, interesting other types who live or work in non-medical occupations nearby. (Case in point: the time a coworker came back laughing from our labs next door because she'd seen a pimp carrying a cane. Or how a different one asks me all the time if I get freaked out walking the two blocks or so from the building to the lot, since I leave several hours earlier than anyone else and I'm always walking alone.)
Normally this does not bother me in the least. I mean, I'm crossing Main St., for goodness sake, and there's medical folk all over -- I'm reasonably sure that if something weird happened I could give a shout, and SOMEONE would notice and help me out. And I've always got my cell phone in my pocket.
But the other day, I had crossed the street and was headed toward the lot when this guy -- same side of the street, but with a parked car between him and the sidewalk -- starts talking at me. Started off with, "Hey, sweetie" and I basically tuned it out from there, because when someone addresses you like that, the nicest sort of thing you're going to hear will be massively objectifying. I just put my head down, pretended not to hear him, and kept walking, which (a) made me feel like a bit of an ass (despite the circumstances) because I don't particularly enjoy pretending people don't exist, and (b) was rather humiliating, because I very much would have liked to turn on him and inform him that no, he would not call me "sweetie," he had no effin idea if I was a sweetie or not, it was none of his goddamn business what kind of a person I was, and unless he had somehow become a member of my immediate family he would apologize IMMEDIATELY and never call me that in such a demeaning way ever again. Except, yanno, I'm a skinny stick of a girl and for all I knew that could have been his provocation to sling me over one shoulder and carry me off to murder me somewhere.
I could go on for hours about how that's wrong and an obvious example of misogyny in the world today, etc. etc. I think most decent people already know that, though, and my point is actually quite different.
Today I had to drop by Walgreens so I could pick up some contact solution (didn't have any travel size for the plane). As I was walking out of the store, I accidentally caught the eye of a random guy. I saw that he was unshaven and not well-dressed, which immediately classified him as Not a Tourist and therefore Potential Trouble in my head.
He smiled at me and said, "Hi, lovely." I was skeeved out, faked a smile, and dropped eye contact as quick as possible.
He stopped at the bus shelter I was walking past, and I saw him out of the corner of my eye as he held out a plastic shopping bag to a guy sitting there. I caught just a snatch of what he was saying -- "Yeah, here, I've got..." and realized suddenly that he must be homeless, and so was the guy he was talking to, and they were eating their dinner out of a plastic shopping bag under a bus shelter.
And then I thought back and realized that when he said, "Hi, lovely," he was not trying to pick me up or make a crass comment or otherwise take advantage of me. The eye contact, the smile, the tone of voice -- it was all too genuine for him to be an insecure ass trying to demonstrate his power over some random girl in the street. No: he happened to catch my eye and I seemed like a lovely person to him, so he addressed me as such. There's something simple and wonderful in that kind of sincerity -- pulling a word free of all its connotations and saying it exactly as it's supposed to be -- and I bet 95% of the world's population couldn't pull it off.
And here I had just scurried away from him like he'd been mocking me.
I wish I could say I went back and apologized and explained myself, but I'm not that brave. I stood on the corner of the road a few yards away trying to figure out what had just happened, until my dad pulled up to take me back to the hotel.
So there you go, asshole: the worst harm you did with your comments wasn't to make a random person going about her daily business uncomfortable, although they certainly did that. They prevented a real smile and a genuine "thank-you" from going to a guy who lives on kind words and spare change. Brilliant job.
And dear homeless person: I appreciate the compliment. I really do. I wish I'd stopped to tell you that, now, and I hope my reaction wasn't hurtful - although I'm sure it cuts deep every time a person judges you before they've even given you a full look. I bet you see a lot more than I do and know a lot more than you realize, and I hope you have a good night.
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