Bad Days and Betta Fish

One might think that working at a pet store would be a nice, leisurely job. And, one might think that working at a pet store would mean that I get to deal with kind, animal-loving people on a daily basis. In addition, one might think that working at a pet store would be, quite possibly, the best retail job available.

One would be wrong.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I truly love my job. I do get the real animal lovers in there who care about taking care of their pet in the best way possible. My job is filled with small children asking to hold the guinea pigs, and giggling incessantly while the little guy sniffs their hand. It’s a wonderful job, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. However, it’s not all sunshine and hamsters. On occasion, I’ll get a customer who seems to be in a particularly bad mood, or having a particularly bad day, week, century, etc., and they do so enjoy making sure that whoever they’re talking to shares in their ill fate. Yesterday, it seemed I had been “blessed” with one such customer.

I was bagging fish for people when I noticed a short, white-haired elderly lady standing to the side. Thinking that perhaps she had a question, I turned to her with my best customer-service smile and said, “Hi there, can I help you with anything today?”

The response was immediate, and adamant.

“No. I’m looking. Can’t anyone let an old woman look?”

I jumped a bit, not quite prepared for the harsh words, but smiled anyway and told her that of course she was more than welcome to look around. She glared at me, and continued scanning the fish wall, scrutinizing every tank.

Wonderful, I thought. Another rude customer, determined to make everyone else’s life just as miserable as theirs. If you’re so grouchy today, why couldn’t you just stay in? Why come out and be around people when you obviously don’t even want to be?

After about half an hour, I had helped anyone else, and she and I were the only people back there. I couldn’t help but notice that she looked lost and almost a bit sad, so I thought I’d try again.

“Are you looking for anything in particular today?”

She turned to look at me, pausing before answering this time.

“No, I just…” Her eyes narrowed, this time not in an unkind way, but as if she was thinking hard about something, struggling to finish. Suddenly, she shook her head and began to walk away. Confused, I walked after her, wondering if somehow I’d done something.

“Ma’am?” I called after her. She stopped and turned to me again.

“Ma’am, if there’s anything at all I can help you with, I’d be more than happy to. Honestly, you’re the only customer I have right now, and I’ve got all the time in the world to help you.”

She stared at me for awhile longer, before turning down an aisle and walking away. I turned back to the fish, feeling confused and more than a little bewildered. Was it something I said? Was she just having a bad day and determined to let it show? A few moments, later, the sound of tapping broke through my thoughts.

I turned around to see the little old woman holding a two-quart fishbowl, tapping on it insistently, and looking at me with expectation on her face.

“You’re wanting something to go in that fishbowl?”

She nodded, and walked over to the guppies, pointing at them. Now that I understood what she was wanting, I knew how to help. I explained to her that the only thing that could go in a small bowl like that would be a betta fish, and she looked at me with a shrug.

“I.. I don’t know what…” she trailed off again, still seeming to have an oddly hard time, so I showed her the betta fish. Her face lit up as she looked at them. She turned back to me.

“Bright?” she asked hesitantly. “Something bright? I have bad-”

I could tell that she was trying to say vision, but it seemed like everything but vision was coming out of her mouth. The word was jumbled and mixed up, and she grew more and more frustrated with herself before lapsing into silence again. Suddenly, I realized the problem.

This woman had recently recovered from a stroke.

She started to walk away again, and I stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Ma’am, we can find you the brightest, prettiest fish we have, and I’ll get together everything you need to go with it.”

She watched me for a moment before reaching up and patting my hand on her shoulder and nodding. We went back to the fishwall, and she began to point at betta after betta for me to take down so she could inspect him. Finally, she settled on one. She told me that she only had twenty dollars to spend, so we found a starter kit with food and water treatment samples, enough to hold her over for awhile and well within her budget. Feeling rather proud of myself, I walked up to the front and placed them at the register for her, only to see that she was still at the back. I walked back there, asking if she needed anything else. She stared at the ground.

“I… I am sorry… for how I talked to you. I don’t talk to people like that. Really, I don’t. I just… I can’t…” she trailed off again, and I nodded encouragingly as she found her words. “I can’t say things when I try to. I get upset. I wasn’t upset at you.”

My heart broke for this woman. Here, I had automatically assumed the worst of her. I’d thought that she was just another rude customer, just someone else out to make sure that if they were having a bad day, everyone else did too. Before I could tell her that it was completely okay, she had wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug, and I couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Thank you for talking with me today. I don’t have anyone to talk to. That’s why I wanted a pet. It can’t talk back, but I can talk to it. I get so lonely.”

What do you say to that? This woman who I’d already written off was standing in front of me, thanking me for kindness that I had only shown initially out of necessity. I swallowed hard and smiled at her.

“Ma’am,” I said, taking her hand, “You can come talk to me anytime I’m here. My name’s Mikeala, and you just call and see if I’m working, and I’ll be more than happy to talk to you anytime. I might have to be bagging some fish for people in the mean time, but you’re more than welcome to watch and help, and talk with me about anything you like.”

This woman acted like I’d given her the best gift she had been given, and that’s when I realized that for some people, most people even, kindness really is the best gift you can give. Common kindness has become rather uncommon these days, it seems, and the only reason she’d been rude to me was because she expected me to be rude to her. I had to wonder how many people had grown impatient with her when she struggled over her words, how many people had snapped at her in the same manner she’d snapped at me, and I understood. It’s hard to love your neighbor, and it’s especially hard not to judge people, and I had failed. I had judged her after the first words left her mouth, and I couldn’t have been more wrong.

She squeezed my hand and asked me to write down my name for her, which I did. Apparently, I’ll be seeing her again Tuesday.

We grow up hearing in church how wrong it is to judge people, but I’d never really considered what that could mean. Sometimes it doesn’t just mean not assuming that someone fits a certain stereotype because of what they’re wearing. And sometimes, it doesn’t just mean assuming the worst of someone because of a certain decision they’ve made. It can mean being patient and forgiving because you don’t know what’s going on in someone’s life. No one is omniscient except Christ, and we can’t see what’s in their hearts and minds.

I learned yesterday that a little kindness goes a long way, and a little patience can mean the world to a very lovely soul. I’ll have to thank her Tuesday. She taught me a very valuable lesson, and it’s one I’m grateful for.

Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.
~Ephesians 4:32