I told Cesia about an experience I had recently, in which someone thought that, because I don’t know Spanish, I also don’t know anything else. This happened at a self-checkout, which are uncommon where we live. I asked Cesia what she thought of the situation, and if I had experienced racism. She had some thoughts.
“Your perspective tells you everything is about you,” she said.
I can’t disagree with this, but maybe I can defend it. Doesn’t everyone think they’re the star of their own life? If you were in a movie, you’d be the main character. Aren’t we all Neo, waiting for Trinity; Harry, waiting for Hagrid, or an X-Man, waiting for puberty? I know I am.
“…and she thought she had bonded with a stranger,” Cesia continued.
This tells me one of two things; either Mexican culture is far more friendly than I ever realised, and that this brief interaction in a customer service role was enough for Cesia to consider us in some way bonded. Or I’m far more unfriendly than I ever realised, and that this brief interaction with a kindly old lady was helpless to melt the iron carapace rusted shut around my heart.
“…and she wanted to show you this new technology.”
This goes back to everything being about me. I had been using self-checkouts for years before moving to Mexico. They’re great; I don’t need to remove my headphones, I don’t need to answer any questions, and they make it easier to steal toothpaste the one time I ran out and couldn’t afford to buy any more. This woman guessed that this tech was new to me as well her, and wanted to take a moment to compare my receipt to the products I had bought, to prove that the self-checkouts are trustworthy.
“This is innovative and groundbreaking,” Cesia said.
Now I want to show this old lady one of those Amazon stores that don’t have staff or checkouts. I want to watch her get her mind blown by the advances in relatively small transactions. I wondered if she had ever seen someone pay using the contactless pay feature on their mobile. Would she faint?
It’s kind of sad, this old lady who maybe doesn’t have any other marketable skills, encouraging me to marvel over her replacement. I don’t know if she sees this machine as a threat or an assistant that lightens her load. I remember working in a supermarket when self-checkouts were just a rumour. The older employees were scared that they were ageing out of even a minimum wage, unskilled, job. They saw it as unfair, and I, being 17, saw it as progress. If it cost me my job, at that point I didn’t care. But again, that’s me, Neo/Harry/an X-Man, secretly believing that I’ll be fine because I’m special, just like everyone else.
Have you ever been offended by somebody’s kindness? Tell me about it in the comments, or tweet me.
If you enjoyed this, and want to read about another misunderstanding I had, click here.
Don't Call Me José 