Shame on you, mean people

THERE IS one thing I would like you to know about me. Every day I wake up with the challenge of how to leave my house only if it is absolutely necessary. I believe that I would be happier if I never had to venture beyond my front gate. Crime doesn’t have me feeling that way. I just don’t want to face any of the awful, inconsiderate, mean people I am likely to encounter when I go out in public.

I register on the extreme edge of the introvert scale. It’s difficult for me to speak to people or be in the same room with them. Social situations make me uncomfortable and often sad. They drain all of my energy. I will need more sleep for two days after a social event.

Yes, I can do public speaking if forced to – although at one time the thought of that confined me to my bed with an unbearable migraine for a week.

About 50 per cent of any given population are introverts. We often don’t recognise it as a behavioural trait. We think something is wrong with us. We feel unrelatable. We fear we are social deviants and don’t understand why difficult encounters with unfriendly, unkind people send us into a downward spiral of depression. We question the world and people’s values and only feel safe and happy in our own homes.

I tell you this on behalf of all the introverts out there who don’t have my platform to speak out. I hope you can understand how you affect people like me.

For me, the latest, over-the-edge experience came on a day that I went to Maritime to sign the proof-of-life form necessary for my pension. When I drove past the security guard at the entrance, he came to yell at me. I apologised profusely, saying I really didn’t see him. He was sitting behind a desk and when you enter the parking garage, you face total darkness. Maybe that’s a poor excuse, but there’s nothing I could do but apologise. What could I possibly gain from purposely passing the person who issues my ticket to get out of a place so I can return to the sanctuary of my own home?

The security guard’s anger happened while I was trying to get out of my car in the narrow parking space I chose to park. Disappointed that I had passed about ten empty spaces to choose this space, I drove on, only to find no available spaces ahead of me. The kind security guard at the exit tried to help me find a way to circle around to where the empty parking spaces were, but the parking garage is one-way.

She asked the security guard who was upset with me what to do. He said I had to leave, circle the parking lot and return to the beginning. When I reached back to his spot, he had placed a sign at the entrance saying all the parking spots were full.

After driving around for about half an hour, I finally found a parking space outside of the garage. Of course I complained about the security guard – not that I expected he would be held accountable for his rudeness.

The service industry is practically non-existent in this country. Powerless people working in it try to render themselves powerful through pettiness. Maybe you think you had a successful day when you yell at customers, fail to serve them or send them on wild goose chases so you don’t have to deal with them.

Maybe you think a good day is how many people you can make unhappy or angry, but that is not genuine fulfilment or power. Introverts like me feel sad, frustrated and turned off by your behaviour. You represent the place you work for, and if you’re a public servant, you represent this country. Your behaviour can either be admirable or shameful.

My mom told me to feel grateful for every job I ever had from babysitting to working in a restaurant where I wiped countertops and tables all day. She said, “Do your work with pride because some people don’t have jobs. Your boss can always replace you.”

You need to appreciate your job and respect your employers and their customers. Your behaviour has the power to uplift people or make them cynical.

If you’re unhappy with your work, find another job. You have no right to be disrespectful. Shame on you. Do better than that.