…say anything I want.
Recently there have been a couple of moments at work where little old ladies have taken advantage of their age and “experience” to tell me exactly what was on their minds.
The first was an instance when I was the manager on duty and was called up to the front of the store because a customer wanted to inquire as to why our company didn’t supply a wheelchair for shoppers. Having taken care of her concerns as best I could, I turned to leave but she called me back. She stood and grabbed my face with both hands and turned my head back and forth. She was analyzing the skin tags on my face {which I’m self conscious about anyway}. And, then, in a loud voice that everyone around could hear she announced: “You need to have those removed. They’re going to turn cancerous.”
She went on to tell me that she worked in the medical field for thirty plus years and that she has experience with cancer diagnosis. I assured her that my doctor had recently looked at them and thought they were harmless.
Just two days ago another customer stopped me and told me that I had a beautiful face and a beautiful smile and that the rest shouldn’t matter since people look at my face and nice smile first. The rest shouldn’t matter? I’m sure she was referring to the extra poundage. Of course she was.
I’m sure these women meant well. And, perhaps they were even saying what other younger women might think to themselves but never say.
I hope that when I am old I shall have a filter.
