This is something I've suspected for some time, but now I'm quite sure. People barge into me, jump in front of me in queues, walk through me (almost). Today, I was waiting at the door of a shop which is exited by a short flight of stairs. I stood to one side, holding the door open, while two elderly women climbed slowly up the stairs and out into the street. No eye contact, no word of thanks. Nothing.
I don't expect bunches of flowers or even flowery language. In fact, I don't expect anything of a floral nature. But a smile? A "thank you"? A recognition that I'm there, perhaps?
No. I'm invisible. I must be. So look out. Soon, I could be somewhere near you, watching your every move, and you'd know nothing about it at all. In fact, I could be standing behind you right now.
So if I am, and if you're offering, mine's white, please, with no sugar (red if it's wine).
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Oh, I know that feeling. My best friend and I have talked about it a lot, because we both remember when we weren't invisible. Then it happened, we became part of the background. No one pays any attention to women when they stop being scenery but don't yet remind people of their grandmothers.
ReplyDeleteKay, Alberta, Canada
An Unfittie’s Guide to Adventurous Travel
Frances that's so funny, I could imagine your face. I'm not laughing at you - laughing with you. It's still worth being polite though, there's not much of it about. Don't change the way you are. I would have smiled and let you go first. You must put it in your next book.
ReplyDeleteThis sort of thing winds me up so much - a smile or a nod costs nothing. People are so rude!
ReplyDeleteWorryingly I find my car is also invisible at times too x
If that happens to me I always shout 'Don't mention it' at them.
ReplyDeleteBut if you really want to become invisible, try riding a bicycle.
I thought I was the most invisible person ever. Especially when walking along the street. People coming the other way walk straight at me. I did once try not moving out of the way, but was rewarded with a mouthful of abuse.
ReplyDeleteI always want to ask such people if they got a refund from their charm school.
Hope I didn't run over your foot when I pushed my chair back just then.
ReplyDeleteI've done what Joanna tried many times, and, more often than not, it works. Maybe it has to do with me being 5'8" (and that's without heels) and often walking at a brisk pace in a purposeful manner, maybe it is for some other reason that I do not know, but I find I am only invisible when I want to be - for instance, when I walk home on my own at night and join the crowd of teenagers walking the same direction (there is a club not too far from my house). To me, it means safety in numbers; to them, at my age I am about as interesting as a lamp post.
ReplyDeleteMaybe you had picked up Harry P's cloak instead of your coat when you rushed of to the shop.
ReplyDeleteMaybe all us invisible women could take over the world and straighten out the mess men have got us into.
Just a thought;-)
A new career as a pickpocket beckons...
ReplyDeleteHi, Kay. Yes. Sad, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteThanks, susanjanejones. You're obviously a much nicer perosn than I am - I wasn't smiling. I was cross!
Oh Teresa, me too! We have to keep our car in the stret, and I can never remember where I've left it.
Keith, I've tried that. But as I'm invisible, no-one seems to hear me.
Joanna, that charm school must be huge, as its old boys (and girls) seem to be everywhere!
Patsy, yes you did. That's why I'm hopping (but of course you can't see me).
Librarain, lucky you, to be invisible among a crowd of teenagers. I think that would make me very visible indeed ;(
Good idea, Jarmara!
Tim - even better idea!
A good title for your next novel, perhaps? Maybe it's time to fight back and demand acknowledgement - oh, wait, may we won't be heard either.
ReplyDeleteIt even happens when my husband and I are together, and WE end up separating to let someone through, Grrr..
ReplyDeleteNot bad at all, Rosemary! Will you write it, or shall I?
ReplyDeleteMaggie May, it's a bit like Scottish country dancing, isn't it. The bit where two of you make an arch, and someone pops underneath? But not as civilised, of course.
Time hasn't changed a thing Frances. I can remember as a twelve year old holding the door open at M&S and not one thank you from those ungrateful adults!
ReplyDeleteI even wrote and had a letter printed in a national newspaper about the whole affair!
Still happens - as you obviously know - so I tend to say a 'thank you' loud enough for the ill-mannered wretches to hear and usually it brings them to attention!
Anna :o]
love the title,
ReplyDeletevery insightful words.
authentic poetry, smiles.
ReplyDeleteGreetings:
Hope all is well.
Come join our poetry picnic today,
Random poems are welcome in case you don’t have a theme fitting one.
First time participants can submit 1 to 3 random poems,
Best wishes.
Happy Holidays.
Looking forward to seeing you share.
xoxox
Thanks for the invitation, Jingle Poetry. I'm not really a poet, but I'll call in for a sandwich.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely know that feeling. It is so frustrating.
ReplyDelete