I admit I do sometimes wonder if I have been struck down by
the curse of invisibility, but it only seems to work on some people, others
seem to see me with no problem. My family hasn’t mentioned anything to suggest
that I am disappearing, or in some way transparent. So why is it that some
people fail to see me? Or is it perhaps because they are too downright lazy,
arrogant or just unpleasant.
There are
several examples of the invisibility syndrome, obviously in places where there
are a lot of people, such as towns and shopping centres. We have always had the
aggressive bully type who will crash straight into us, but the habit seems to
me to be spreading to very different characters. One of my favourite examples
is the refusal to release the hand of the girlfriend or wife in a narrow area.
There is clearly no way that two people can pass unhindered, but many attached
people seem to live with the belief that they have the right to hold hands at
all times, regardless of the situation. What are our options? Crash through
with righteous indignation, or stop politely and let them pass. I know which
one I favour.
In a
similar setting there can be found the oil tanker mentality. Oil tankers do, of
course, have very large turning circles and are slow to manoeuvre; so they stay
on the same course. This desire to stay on a set course can be found in the
determined shoppers. They will select a route to their chosen destination and
will stick to that route regardless of the inconvenience and discomfort it
causes others.
Possibly my
least favourite treatment while I am suffering from invisibility is the
complete ignorance of my presence. I swear they mustn’t be able to see me. This
behaviour can be found in some shops and supermarkets. No hello, please, thank
you or goodbye, from the cashier. Your items are scanned and if really lucky
your presence may be acknowledged by fleeting eye contact at the end of the
interaction (for want of a better, more accurate word).
The star of
the show has to be the etiquette of public door opening. I was brought up to
hold doors open for people and to say thank you when someone did the same for
me. I feel guilty if I say thank you and think the person hasn’t heard me, or
if I inadvertently let a door swing because I don’t think there is anyone
there. I would have to physically restrain myself to not say thank you. Just
the other day I was going to the local pub for a meal with my father. A
mini-bus had just arrived so my father waited and held the door open and they
all just passed through without even acknowledging his presence. I’m not one to
take such arrogant disregard, so I challenged them on their behaviour; all I
got in return was startled looks then disgruntled words among themselves as if
I’d just insulted them.
I truly
despair when it comes to common courtesy and respect. We should take every
opportunity to challenge this behaviour, or pretty soon our common decency of
times gone by will be lost, and somehow that seems to be the loss of something
special to Britain.
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