Did you just say what I think you said?

I am often astonished, even mildly entertained, by how people seem unaware that others exist, much less have needs and wants of their own. I've long been in the habit of muttering "go ahead, it's all about you," when I'm cut off in traffic, blocked in by someone's shopping cart in a narrow grocery-store aisle, or forced off the sidewalk by three chatting people who could easily walk single file to let others pass. When it comes to these minor annoyances, people can be separated into two categories: those who, if made aware, would quickly apologize and rectify the situation, and those could couldn't give a shit. 


I am positive that I have annoyed my fair share of people, even more so now that I have two small kids. I do my best to be aware of the people around me when the girls and I are all out together, but I know for a fact that we have slowed down checkout lines, congested grocery-store aisles, monopolized sidewalk space and contributed to overall noise pollution. I do my best to apologize and teach my girls to do the same. Most of the time, people are very understanding and are gracious in accepting my apologies. I think it helps that my kids are cute and friendly.


And then there are the straight-up assholes. 


When I take Sonja and Haven grocery shopping, Sonja usually pushes one of the tiny "shopper in training" carts. She is very well-behaved in the store and my only complaint is that she sometimes lags behind and I have to remind her again and again to stay with me. We went to the Market on Yates this morning, a small store with narrow, congested aisles and I told Sonja to stay close to me so I wouldn't lose her and also so she wouldn't be in the way of the other shoppers. I had a cart of my own, with Haven in the child's seat. We were in the butter/margarine section of the dairy case, which is opposite the tofu/"veggie meat" section. A store employee was stocking the tofu using a large produce cart, so the already narrow aisle was rendered an even tighter fit. 


I heard a very angry "OUCH!" and knew immediately that Sonja had accidentally hit someone in the ankle with her tiny cart. I have been rammed in this exact manner several times and I've had several conversations with Sonja about being careful and watching where she was going. Getting hit in the achilles tendon with a metal cart hurts like hell, but I could always tell that Sonja was just having trouble understanding the dimensions of the cart and was not purposefully trying to hurt anyone. Indeed, she would often get upset that she had hurt me and would even start crying, thinking I was upset with her. She is simply not the type of kid to ram someone on purpose.


I wheeled around to apologize to the woman and as I did, I was keenly aware that I had just been that person who wasn't paying any attention to the needs or wants of those around me; I was being oblivious. 

"I'm so, so sorry!" I said.


"Ow." the woman said angrily. She brought her leg up, grabbed her achilles and rubbed it. Then she put her foot back down, glared at me and said, "Can I just get in here?" and pushed past me. 


I quickly moved both Sonja's cart and my cart to the side and then crouched down to talk to Sonja. "Sonja, it's important to watch where you're going, yeah? Please tell the lady you're sorry for bumping her with your cart, OK?" And then I saw the look on Sonja's face; it was crumpling before my eyes and tears were welling up. She started to say something, but it just turned into a cry. She was terrified. 


"Oh, forget it!" the woman practically yelled as she bent over the butter, looking for whatever it was she was looking for.


I could feel the blood rising in my face and I wanted to push the woman's fat ass into the dairy case. Within the space of a few seconds, what could have been a valuable learning experience for Sonja was twisted into an ugly, spiteful scene. I leaned over close to the woman's ear and said, not quietly, but in a clear and confident tone, "You don't have to be a bitch about it."


"Yeah well, that's what your kid is being," she spat. Seriously, I couldn't believe that was her reply; she was calling my three-year-old child a bitch. If I didn't have to turn my attention to Sonja, who had by this time completely disintegrated into tears, I'm certain I would have had a few more choice words for this woman. Is there a wrong-enough side of the bed to wake up on  where calling a toddler a bitch is an acceptable response to a minor annoyance? I mean, I accepted responsibility for the fact that Sonja had hit her, apologized and was in the process of asking Sonja to apologize; is there something more that I should have done? Perhaps in her world hitting Sonja would have been appropriate, since there is only a very small step between verbal and physical abuse.


I wheeled both carts around the corner, put the few groceries that were in Sonja's cart into my cart, picked Sonja up and started slowly walking away, all the while assuring Sonja that what had happened was an accident and that the woman's reaction was nasty and unfair. And then I started to seethe. I was shaking with anger. I walked back toward the dairy case, but the woman was gone. People who had witnessed the incident were still standing around with their mouths open, shaking their heads. 


The store employee stocking the tofu was in shock and I said to him, "Well, I hope her day is complete now that she's made a three-year old cry."


"That was just so awful!" he said. "I can't believe that just happened." I told him I'd left Sonja's cart in the aisle and he said not to worry about it.


We had a couple more things to pick up in the store, but even after we found them, I wandered around the aisles for a few minutes and I realized I was actually hoping to run into this woman again. Looking back, I'm glad she made a quick exit, because I honestly think that laying into that horrible woman would only have upset Sonja further, no matter how satisfying it would have been for me.


So far, my many justice-filled, eloquently-worded daydreams have been an enjoyable consolation prize.