Your smile drives me crazy – no pun intended

Okay, this post might come across as a brusque piece to few, but I am confident that there are people out there who will get where I am coming from. So, here goes. Last weekend being a holiday weekend, we decided to pay homage to our ‘Memorial Day Mecca’ or as rest of America calls it, New England. The place is enigmatic – land of retail therapy, saporous food, and locals with benevolent attitude. The purlieu turned me into a swashbuckler. So, here I was soaking in the goodness of New England and that is when the inevitable happened - I got the idea for my next blog.

I was standing in queue at Starbucks to purchase their summer launch – Dulce De Leche. So, this lady behind the counter who seemed very effusive – more like a combination of garrulous and exuberant, asked me what I wanted. Here I was, trying to luxuriate in the aura of ‘good customer service’, when this angry man with gallons of milk, entered the store. My guess is that he was the supplier’s chum. So, this verbally-challenged -endowed -with –body- odor- insolent- person lashed his fury at this timid creature behind the cash counter. How did she respond – she continued to be punctilious and chirpy. Soon after that, she lugged in a bag of ice, which seemed to be double her weight; yet, she almost gave out a 'welcome cheer'.

Her behavior struck me as odd. Maybe I am an eccentric and the ‘I don’t care New York attitude’ has rubbed off a little too much on me, but all I wanted to say to her was “Miss, you need to lay off the Prozac and wipe off the perpetual smile”! Being cordial, jubilant, and amiable is one thing; being incessantly perky even when someone slaps you, to me is scary.

I wonder when a polite smile seems to morph into a creepy one. What is the threshold for it? Any thoughts?

Copyright © 05.31.2007

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