Not going back.

Recently, a very wise friend told me she'd heard on a podcast that the people who drive you the craziest are the people from whom you have the most to learn. I did the same mental leap that you are probably making right now when I responded with, "Yeah, I learn that I don't want to be around them or in any way similar to them." She says that's cheating though and that you have to look deeper than that. I'm thinking that would probably mean spending MORE time, rather than my instinctive and previously effective plan of LESS time with someone who pushes my buttons.

Probably the holidays are as good a time as any to put this into practice. I wasn't really thinking about it when I entered the Game Stop establishment this weekend. If you are not a middle school boy or a hard core pasty-faced gamer sort you probably spend about as much time in Game Stop as I do. I'd say "ill prepared" would describe me for this experience. You would think 3 registers in the store the size of a shoebox would cover it, but during the holidays apparently this is a gross miscalculation of resources. The 50 weary people in line looked like they had the sense to bring a snack and that they'd already eaten it hours ago. I hop through the door expecting to purchase one $20 gift card for a birthday party beginning in 30 minutes. I'm a smart girl and it didn't take me long to discover that it was every man for himself here. Still optimistic and full of holiday cheer, I grab the card and stake out my spot in line.

And there she was.

I've said many times before that I have an immediate, sometimes physical, response to people that I dislike. The woman who got in line behind me embodied all the things I can't even put my finger on that make me crazy about people. To say she was invading my space in the Game Stop check out line was an understatement. If I can FEEL YOUR BREATH on me in the check out line we are too damn close. I tried to focus on the two 28 year olds discussing the new release of whatever game you learn to blow people up in, but she wanted to spend this time getting to know one another. To remain on the friendly side, I would have said that I liked her muumuu, but it was ill-fitting and a little sweaty smelling so I only smiled and nodded and focused on breathing through my mouth while she told me about how her mother in law accuses her of spoiling her husband (he's only 57) by continuing to purchase these games for him. She'd spent hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars supporting his gaming CAREER (I am not kidding you) while he sits on the sofa and eats Taco Bell. He doesn't even let the dogs out, by God. I can tell she hates him, and I do too now, but here she is ready to sink a few more dollars into this lousy existence. The cashier ignored my pleading eyes as my new BFF droned on and on about her misery. Dear God, I thought, there is no 11 year old birthday boy who could possibly understand the SACRIFICE I am making for his present.

During our time together, I did consider that maybe, maybe, maybe there was something positive I could glean from our encounter, but I have to say I think that podcast speaker had never been in this sort of situation. By the time I clawed my way to the counter, Tyffany (yes, 2 y's), who by all appearances is a 13 year old cashier, eyeballed me as if she'd had just about enough too, of people just like ME, but she didn't say it. Instead she just happily wrote in the amount on my gift card with a little smiley face and told me how much she liked smiley faces. Twice. Now Tyffany is someone from whom I might learn a thing or two.