Grumpy Old Man

I went to the store at lunch today. I parked and grabbed my bag, headed through the parking lot. Standing at the front door was an elderly man holding a clipboard.

I sighed inwardly, "Please don't talk to me. I just want to get my parsnip chips and get out."

Someone else was talking to him as I passed and I kept my eyes averted. "Please, please don't see me..."

"Are you a registered voter ma'am?"

Dammit.

I hesitated for a split second, debating if I was far enough away to pretend I hadn't heard him. But then I thought, "Don't be rude. He's just doing his thing. You could at least acknowledge the guy. Lots of people have probably walked right past him today without even a glance."

I stopped just in front of the door and turned, "I'm sorry, were you speaking to me?"

I noticed then how hard he looked. His hair was white, a red baseball cap crammed onto his head. He was wearing simple old man clothes, nothing extraordinary. It was the scowl he wore that made him so unattractive.  "Yeah. You a registered voter?" His voice was hard too. Angry. I'd seen it in people before.

I smiled, put on the retail/waitress face, "Actually I am but I just-"

"Yeah ok. Whatever. That's fine." He cut me off and turned away to the next pedestrian, dismissing me.

I don't know why but I tried again. I thought maybe if I could explain...If I could tell him that I was registered but I'd flaked on registering in the new county when I moved.  I thought if he understood that about me that he wouldn't be so harsh.

"No, I mean-"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he grunted, still not looking at me.

I turned and without thinking about it, I said, "Well, don't ask people if you don't want to know."

I went inside the store and passed a woman near the entrance who had overheard me. She smiled. "Right? He was pretty grumpy."

I smiled back and we commiserated the way that strangers in grocery stores do and then I went to find my chips.

When I left, I glanced over to where he'd been standing and saw his clipboard and bag.

I looked for him. I felt like...I don't know...maybe if I smiled at him...  I mean, he probably had been ignored all day. He might be going through any number of things personally or maybe he didn't really want anyone to talk to him either. I just felt compelled to connect with him somehow. To let him know I'd seen him.

But that didn't happen. I got back in my car and drove back to work singing an old Paula Abdul song at the top of my lungs. I didn't think about him at all until just now.

The other day I was talking to a coworker and I learned she wrote too. It got me thinking about how I hadn't been writing much lately. Tonight I planned to let myself be inspired. I had decided to try and write tonight and when I opened this page to begin, I saw it.

My blog is called I'll Tell You How I Really Feel About That because I tend to not hesitate in sharing my opinion. I am tactful but I have a pretty strong sense of right and wrong and I'm not afraid to discuss it. I am also a believer in sharing my feelings. That whole 'heart on you sleeve' thing? I am that heart. And under my title, under the section that says 'About you' I'd long ago chosen one sentence for strangers on the blogosphere to sum all of that up.

"Don't ask unless you want to know."