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•CONSIDER THIS• BY ELLEN SNORTLAND
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Please don’t ask me to ‘smile’
N
ow that we vaccinated people can once again be outside and “maskless” — at least in certain circumstances — I now realize that there was a definite perk to wearing a mask. Why? Because no one could see my facial expressions, (note to self: don’t wear a clear face shield to the grocery store again) and that finally meant no one — usually men — could tell me to smile. I would like to do my part in wiping out this most obnoxious behavior, and it’s a good bet I speak for a lot of you. I am talking about nipping those folks in the bud who feel obliged to tell complete strangers to smile. It usually happens to me in grocery stores. During COVID-19 times, I blissfully haven’t been told to smile once — until I wore that clear shield. Then, like magic, there he was in the produce section, reminding me. I have occasionally received “smile!” orders in a parking lot, usually outside a grocery store. I’ll just be pushing my cart along, minding my own business (or fearing for my life, depending on the neighborhood) when some glee-monger pops out with “Smile! You look so serious!” or “Smile! It can’t be that bad!” Well, guess what? I am serious now, and maybe it is that bad, you nincompoops. Basically, my face is no one else’s business. Now, I suspect these self-appointed “smile police” only pick on people who are already quite pleasant looking, or perhaps, just shorter than they are. I can’t imagine that a 300-pound linebacker gets too many directives to smile but of course, I don’t see any 300-pound linebackers grocery shopping. I wish I could run a survey on a lot of things. I want facts; I want numbers to back up my opinions. In the meantime, I’ll rely on guessing. I’d wager that a survey would tell me more women than men get told to smile by strangers. I’d wager that both women and men tell women to smile. Smile patrols know in their tummies that a man may punch them, and rightfully so, for messing with his expression. Women are less apt to strike for any reason. Plus, they’ve been told that their job is to be pretty; a smile, even a forced one, is better than the truth. We have all been trained to be uncomfortable with a female frown, which might mean she’s (gasp!) thinking. When a woman is openly thinking about more than her appearance, she just might figure out a lot of things that make her mad. Then she’ll talk to other women who might get angry, and then… oh my gosh, it just might get out of
hand, and then where will we be? Shamelessly frowning in grocery stores, that’s where. Listen, you folks who tell us hapless shorter people to smile, what’s your problem? I go to a grocery store to buy food, not to smile. You’ve been watching too many commercials. If you must see smiles in the grocery store, go over to the breakfast cereal section and look at Quaker Oats cartons or something. Don’t bother me. When I go grocery shopping, I typically think about prices or try to stretch my food budget, or plan meals. Maybe I’m just hungry. I am not there as a decoration for twerps who cannot face reality. I may be a piece of work, but I am not a piece of art. I am, along with other healthy shoppers who get hit with “smile” being emotionally appropriate to the task. I have never wondered about Mona Lisa’s enigmatic expression. She’s simply gritting her teeth as a result of the gazillionth request to smile. She didn’t feel like it, OK? I understand, Mona. Think about it. Why are these smiley busybodies asking others to smile and also smiling themselves? Are they insane? Do they have gas? Maybe they’re not thinking about skyrocketing grocery prices because they are shoplifting. I am not a relentlessly crabby person, but I guarantee that I do not smile at broccoli or nonfat yogurt. I certainly do not smile at people who ask me to for no reason. I do love to smile when I am happy. I frequently give unsolicited smiles to almost anyone in the vicinity. A smile is a gift, not an obligation. I smile at my husband and my dogs. I smile in the mirror to see if I have spinach in my teeth. So, unless you are Leonardo da Vinci, if you tell me to smile in a grocery store again, I will either make a citizen’s arrest or loudly say, “Kiss my…!” and I don’t mean my instant grits. Perhaps I’ll have a copy of this commentary to give you so I can have something to authentically smile at as I stand there and watch you read it. Or I may just have to get a knuckle sandwich out of the deli case if you catch my drift. Consider yourself warned. There, that ought to cramp someone’s “smile!” Ellen Snortland has written “Consider This…” for a heckuva long time, and she also coaches first-time book authors! Contact her at ellen@beautybitesbeast.com.
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