Silence

Ever wish you had said something, but didn’t?

And those perfect words don’t come to you until later?

I don’t mean a comeback or retort that escaped you. I mean words that could have been helpful, or reassuring.

Sometimes, the thought stays with you afterwards. The unfulfilled potential of those words hangs in the air, and can follow you for days.

I have something I want to say to the man who was waiting to check out at Market Basket on Friday.

I was standing behind him while he was waiting to be helped.

The cashier attending to the only open lane was off doing something. The store had just opened for the day. It was quiet. But the man was fidgety, clearly in a rush. He stood there for several minutes, looking around. The bagger was there, but did not try to catch the cashier’s eye, or call her over.

A few minutes later, the manager finally ushered her back to her post. When she tucked herself behind the conveyer belt, the customer blurted out, “Why didn’t you call to her when you saw me standing here? Why did it take the manager to get you to come help me?”

He directed his comments to them, but also to the manager who was standing nearby.

The manager, the cashier, and the bagger all just stared at the man. They could hear his irritation. But they did not say a word.

Instead, the cashier grabbed his half-gallon of orange juice, and rang him up. The man yanked his credit card from his wallet, swiping it, muttering, “I still don’t know why you weren't helping me.” And he grabbed his carton, and flew out of the store.

I wondered who he was bringing that orange juice to. Buying a single item upon opening of a grocery store is often due to an important mission.

I don't know what he was thinking. But I know what I was thinking. Would they have responded faster for me, a white woman dressed in tennis clothes? Would they have apologized to me if I expressed that kind of anger and frustration?

I have had this happen many times before: and usually when a cashier realizes they were not paying attention, they almost always say, “Sorry, I didn’t see you. Sorry, I didn’t realize you were standing there.”

Sure, the inattentiveness might not have had anything to do with who was standing at the register. But they didn’t respond or apologize to him—they just were silent. As if they didn't know what to say.

After he left, I thought of saying to them, You could have at least acknowledged his complaint. You could have said you were sorry. That’s all he was looking for.

But I didn’t say anything. It felt awkward. I paid and took my groceries. Outside, I scanned the parking lot to see if I could spot the man. I wanted to say to him, Hey, I am sorry. I apologize for their utter disregard. They should have said “Sorry.”

But he was long gone.

I’m thinking of a good friend of mine who lived in my state (with its low proportion of people of color) for two years. And she said to me when she left, “People here stare at me, everywhere I go. I want to say to them, ‘What are you looking at???’”

Here's what I am thinking now: All human beings want to be considered. It’s part of what it means to be an amazing person with hopes, desires, and dreams in this world. We want to be treated with decency.

And, in the end, I am no different from them. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t respond.

But I want to be a better person.

I will do better. I will be more considerate. I will stand up for others. I will say what needs to be said.

What unsaid might be following you?

And who might need to be more considered in your world?