So Much More Than Pathos.

I had to grow up a little bit more today.
While I stood at the register at work today, whining inwardly at my lowly position, a man who looked about 45 came into the store. He looked just like everybody else for a minute, but as it came to be his turn at my register, I noticed he was different. This man leaned heavily on a cane and shook as he walked. He was bent over, at least at a 90 degree angle, and I could see that he was fiddling with his glasses. I thought that he just had trouble putting them on, but as I continued to watch him and prompt him that it was his turn, the smile was forced off of my face. The glasses that he was struggling with included only one scratched and mangled lens. The man was focusing not on putting his glasses ON, but putting them TOGETHER, slowly and carefully guiding them into the right position. He nudged and pulled the single lens into the left side of the frames, which consisted of thin metal for the top half and crudely knotted fishing line for the bottom. From the way he knew exactly what he was doing, I could see that it had been this way for a long time. When he finally got them on, he looked up at me, and when he saw my face, he smiled half-heartedly and said, "One is better than none, I guess." As he stepped closer, I noted more about him. He smelled heavily of smoke. His voice cracked and knotted, like he had been screaming a long time and was reluctant even to speak. I could barely see his left eye through the scratches on his one lens.
This man took about 10 minutes to decide what to order. He ended up with two of the cheapest pizzas on the menu, which he paid for with food stamps. He saved every penny he possibly could, and when he made any decision, it was drawn-out and deliberate. He handled his wallet and very little money with a certain care and delicacy that I have only seen in children. To children, money is an enormous phenomenon, and they interact with it as such. If you watch, you'll see that a preschooler is fascinated by the whole transaction process - he'll pick out his items very carefully, make doubly sure that he has enough money with him, and he'll carefully consider his decision to the best of his fun-size ability. That is exactly the way this man acted with his money. He counted out his bills twice and put them gently into my hand, watching them, not me, as I stored them away.
Something else struck me about this man. The entire time, he showered me and my coworkers with thanks. He called me Miss and said Thank You after every small interaction we had. He made sure to thank us on his way out, and never once let his happy attitude falter. He looked me in the eyes, and when he had a question, he seriously listened to and contemplated the answer. Talking with and serving this little man nearly broke my heart. I wanted to hug him, I wanted to buy his dinner, I wanted to do ANYTHING I could for him. Instead, I marvelled at the way he acted and spoke, and I felt a great love for him that I've never felt for a stranger, and never ever for a customer over age 6.

The very next person to walk up to my register was different. Her black hair was beautifully cut and her nails were long and perfectly manicured. She plopped her Gucci handbag down on the counter, obviously annoyed with the delay caused by the man ahead of her, and glanced down at me without so much as a twitch of her lips before saying, "Umm, I think I'll get...." She proceeded to name 2 or 3 expensive pizzas. While I rang them up, she perused the add-on orders below the counter, and carelessly tossed a tub or two of cookie dough onto the top, deciding, "I think I'll get one of these....and one of these." When I told her what her total was, she simply handed me a credit card without even internalizing it, and waited until I was finished. To her, I was The Labor. She never smiled at me, and mumbled Thanks under her breath as she turned to go.
The direct, sharp contrast between these two people was shocking. It scared me and it enlightened me, interacting with them one right after the other. I was so surprised at how unaware the were of each other. She, with her leather purse and crimson fingers, had no idea about the pain that he had probably experienced. He, with his dingy clothes and crumpled cash, had no insight into the world in which she lived. He simply could not have any idea.
I wanted to yell. I wanted to cry. I wanted to open up the eyes of the world and let them see what I had just seen. How appropriate that we have been discussing Social Darwinism in my history class! I've always stood in the negation whenever the argument arises, but I've been more in the middle, trying to see both sides of the debate. Today, the decision was made for me. There is no better argument for the support of mercy and love and compassion than the image of a crooked little man putting together half a pair of glasses.
Not everyone is powerful and secure. Not everyone knows what they're going to eat next week. When you need new glasses, you go and get some. It may cramp your budget for a day, but it's a very worthwhile exchange. If he had the means to buy new glasses, this man would have done so. He could not, and he accepted that he could not. His glasses were awful, but that is his life. He could not stand without a cane, but that's how it goes. Did he want to take home more than he bought? Probably. Was he more hungry than the size of his purchase indicated? Probably! Could he do anything more? Absolutely not.
I have grown up a little bit more today.