Can We Say “Boundaries?”

Today I was standing in line at the grocery store basically spacing out when the cashier asked the woman in front of me how things were going.

“Fine,” she answered crisply, “but they’re about to be bad.”

“Oh,” the cashier looked up at her uncertainly, “okay.” And with that he started ringing up her items.

Now she should have taken that as a cue to shut up. The grocery store clerk didn’t really care how she was doing. He asked because it was his job to do so and if she was determined to bitch to a stranger she should have gone to one of the neighboring clothing stores where the salespeople work on commission. But apparently this woman isn’t very good at picking up on subtleties so she continued:

“Some guy parked right next to me and gave me this much space to open my door.” She held her hands two inches apart to demonstrate the severity of the offense.

“Uh-huh, that’s too bad.” The cashier was now ringing the groceries a little faster.

“It’s rude and inconsiderate. And if he doesn’t move his car by the time I need to get into mine I’m going to come back in here and hit him.”

I swear to God, I have never seen anyone ring up groceries that fast in my life. I mean this guy had turned cashiering into an aerobic workout.

“That’s him! That’s the man who parked too close to my car!” The woman pointed to a man walking past us with a shopping cart. I didn’t get a good look at him because I was focusing all my energy on not laughing. I certainly didn’t want to inadvertently offend her; she might have tried to beat me up.

Anyway, she finally paid for her groceries and then went over to her tormentor and demanded that he move his car which I think he did—thus sparing us all the inconvenience of having to call the police.

Having lived in San Francisco I’m used to seeing people go psycho over parking spaces, but it was her need to share her frustrations with someone who clearly didn’t want to listen that interested me. I consider myself to be pretty savvy when it comes to basic psychology but this is one of those things that I’ve never been fully able to wrap my mind around. Telling the bartender how your lover broke your heart—that I get. And there are those times when you meet someone with whom you feel an instant connection and thus sharing personal details about your life with them feels natural and appropriate. But how connected could she have felt to the guy bagging her lettuce?

I also would have viewed the incident differently if I hadn’t of just left Borders where the cashier had informed me that last year she left her husband (who was apparently a lousy lover) after discovering that he had been cheating on her with hookers. Okay, did I ask for this information? I didn’t even care when Hugh Grant got caught with his pants down on Hollywood Boulevard so I certainly don’t need to know about the sexual problems of the woman who sells me my son’s Scooby Doo comics.

On the other hand before I left the house today I had no idea what I was going to blog about and now here I am with more material than I know what to do with. So if any of the insane people that I spoke to today are reading this let me take this opportunity to say thank you for keeping my life interesting. I’d feel bad about broadcasting your troubles to the world but as far as I can tell that seems to be your mission in life so think of this as my way of helping you reach your goals.

Kyra Davis
www.kyradavis.com
Sex, Murder And A Double Latte--May 2005