Jumping the gun a.k.a. "you wanna piece of me?"

Tonight, after shopping for school supplies, I was midway into hopping into a cab when a hispanic man started calling out to me. "Oye, preciosa," he whispered. Ew, I thought. As I got into the cab, he persisted. "Beautiful lady!" My blinders were on. "Look. Leave me alone," I replied, "I have to run." "You don't remember me?" He actually reached out to touch me. OK. Enough. I looked up above the cab seat in front of me and the shopping bags.

It was my son's barber. A.K.A., Mike Tyson's barber.

I felt awful. I was actively running away from this man, with whom I worked so hard to establish a stable business relationship and friendship. He had met my grandmother when she was in town, too.

"Look, I am so, so sorry. I just had no idea. You see, sometimes random people say the same things....I am so embarassed to have reacted that way."

No problem, Maitresse.

"Are you sure?" From the cab, I grabbed his hand and asked him to really forgive me.

I jumped the gun. I pre-judged. I feel terrible. Need to book that haircut immediately.


Jackie said...

That was a difficult situation you were in, Maitresse. I think I would have done the same thing; at least your friend was gracious. Sometimes I just don't think men realize how hard women have it, having to be on guard all the time.

la Maitresse said...

Thanks for your understanding and empathy; I guess my residual big picture question in all this is...what happens to us when that sort of behavior (of the kind I exhibited at that time) becomes our default behavior? hmmm...