Let the [Cruel] Goddess Rust Away

I scare people. Unfortunately, I can't hide behind the feeble excuse that I don't mean to, because when I scare people it's usually because, rightly or wrongly, they have aroused my wrath. I don't yell, I don't swear, I don't belittle them, but I am frightening none the less. Usually my scariness manifests itself as me becoming a glaring, arrogant asshole. I'm not so proud of this frightening talent and although I am getting better at controlling it, mostly, I'm better at apologizing for being a jerk. My saving grace being that I like people; and graciously and thankfully it seems that people usually like me.

Last week in Banff I floated through campus, amazed at the kind and generous staff, the mountains, the food, and all of the above and beyonds that had been thought of to make writing as natural as breathing. Except for the early morning coffee girl.

She was young and busy on the phone when I walked up to the counter at the cafe, and she looked at me as though I were an inconvenience instead of a customer. I waited while she finished on the phone, watched as she cut up pies, wrapped them and put them away, and then finally came to help me. But I was in Banff, deliciously happy and not in a hurry, so I waited patiently and didn't begrudge her the time it took to get to me.
But the menu was a little confusing and so when she finally came I asked, "Is it possible to buy a bowl of plain granola?"
She looked at me, rolled her eyes and said, "That's why it's out on the counter. That’s why there's a spoon in it. That's why there are bowls and that's why..."
and,
well,
if there's anything that gets scary Angela going, it's being patronized to. I stood up straight (and you know I'm tall), looked her in the eyes, interrupted her and said in the best, "I'm an asshole voice," I could find, "So. Yes, then. I can buy it plain."
She wilted, backed down and became the nervous seventeen year old she was.
I paid for my granola and left.
Ahhhh, but here's the interesting part.
I went to a table and started eating and thinking about our little confrontation. And since I've been working out ideas about community for awhile now, and searching for ways to build community and take it with me where ever I go, I started thinking about how my unkindness affected the community that I shared with this girl by virtue of our humanity. What I've come to believe in is my responsibility to be grace to all, and that within this responsibility is the understanding that I will sometimes fail. So, I ate my granola and realized as I crunched away, that if I am responsible to her, then when I fail her I need to apologize to her.
Of course I wasn't so crazy about that idea because I didn't want to apologize to a strange girl, not just because she had been so rude to me, but because I was fairly certain she wouldn't understand or want an apology from me, and I would end up feeling like an idiot.
But,
one of the nice things about me is that I'm a little brave.
So, I kicked my pride in the balls and ran off while it was vomiting in the corner, and I apologized to her. And, well, that girl was fantastic. I fell in love with her right there. She was all graciousness. She said that she was sorry too, that her boss has had a lot of complaints about her, that she hated having to work so early, and that she needed to get a new job because she was so unhappy. And then, of course, the miracle for me became the reminder that she was a person with a life outside of my needs and, well, I like people.

We talked for a few minutes and then I left, all glowy and happy and though I knew that scary Angela was still alive and well, I felt like maybe I had found her bum knee and next time I might just be able to give her a good swift kick and watch her land on her ass instead of win the race.