marc falardeau | Flickr
We were grocery shopping at the Middle of Nowhere grocery store.
I love the place. Everyone is really nice, including the customers. A few of the cashiers seem to sense my Social Anxiety and try not to freak me out too much. This one woman complimented me on my jingle bells hair ties around Christmas, and the way she said it, it was clear she was really trying not to make me uncomfortable. It was sweet, and I appreciated it.
I still got really uncomfortable, because I felt like I was holding up the line, and heaven fucking forbid you have a genuine, nice conversation with the cashier, any time of the year, if there are customers behind you. And if you do it during the holidays when, no matter where you live, there are a million more shoppers out every single day? Gah! You are the devil.
The impatience of the people behind me was probably mostly in my head, but I can’t deal with that kind of pressure. So I rushed her through the conversation and left while the Woman Bagging was still speaking. And felt even worse. But I didn’t have a panic attack about that.
No, I had a panic attack because…
There’s this one cashier who’s probably in her 50s. She’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s always friendly and nice. She reminds me of the women I used to spend time with upstate, and so of course I love her. So when I saw her line empty, I made a beeline for it.
Everything went great. She was more cheery than usual that day, and the woman bagging offered to go get us some onions because they were free with a bag of potatoes. AND she was an amazing bagger. Most efficient bagger I’ve seen since grocery stores actually had bagging training classes.
And then the cashier handed back my bonus card, and our fingers accidentally touched for a split second.
I tried really hard not to react, but my whole body stiffened. The smile fell from my face. And I practically ran out of the store trying to hold it together. Then I chastised myself for being ridiculous. But damn if I didn’t shake the whole way home.
A few days later, I had another while waiting for my account manager at the oil company to pick up the Phone. The hold music was peaceful and upbeat, and it made me so anxious I almost threw up. And then when the woman, who I actually really like, picked up the phone, I rambled like a dolt because I was shaking and trying not to puke on the phone. She seemed a little put off, so of course, when I hung up the phone, I shame spiraled pretty hard.
Today is M’s annual winter party. We’re going to this really great Hibachi restaurant in Albany. He wants me to go, and doesn’t want to have to make the trip twice, so I’m going into the office with him. Which means my makeup has to be on point when I leave, and I have to keep an eye on it all day, and I have to sit in his office in clothes that make me uncomfortable for hours.
By the time this post goes live, I’m already there. I’m probably already bitching on Twitter.
Wish me luck. Heh.
