I had to stop into the local drug/everything store the other day.
I was on my way home from the barn, and needed to pick up a thing or two.
I was wearing my hot pink toque, my orange scarf, my army green winter barn coat, black jeans and tall winter boots.
Not only did my hot pink toque and orange scarf clash like the dickens, (I can hear my mother now), my coat was decorated with horse hair, jeans covered in mud and hay, and boots covered in manure.
I realize I may have looked like a person who is housing challenged.
Is that the politically correct term these days?
Someone who may or may not have a roof over their heads, or had a shower that day if at all.
To say I turned a few heads is an understatement.
I realized I did not look like the usual customer in that very nice drug/everything store, where the first department one entered upon was the cosmetic and fragrance counter.
I looked like I needed both.
I pretended I was nonplussed, and proceeded to go up and down each aisle, looking for the items that I needed to purchase.
The trouble is with that store, one has to go up and down each aisle meticulously to see if anything else that one might need is on sale, and therefore must go into the basket.
I heard over the loudspeaker, "Security Section C - Security Section C".
Was that for me, I wondered?
Did I look like a possible security risk with my big coat with big pockets (for carrots and apples, of course), and large tote purse?
Or was I just feeling paranoid, knowing that I was not up to snuff that day as far as my attire was concerned.
I found the face cream I was looking for, and proceeded to the checkout.
I had a coupon that would mean the face cream was free.
The cashier called the manager.
The manager proceeded to carefully scan the coupon.
This must be a fake, I could hear him thinking.
This homeless person does not look like she needs free face cream.
She needs a makeover.
A clean coat. Matching hat and scarf. Better boots and washed jeans.
But no.
I had a coupon for some very expensive face cream which would mean it would be free for me.
The manager called his manager.
That manager asked to see the manager and the coupon.
I was left alone at the cash register for a few moments.
People were lining up behind me.
I tried to lighten their impatience with a smile and a joke.
It did not work.
No one wants to hear from a perceived homeless person, when they have things to do, places to see, and errands to run.
The manager came back and reluctantly relinquished the coupon, cashing me out with the free face cream.
"Oh, but you have a seniors discount?" he asked.
Yes, I said.
So he applied that discount, and now the free face cream was even less costly for him.
I still think he thought I was trying to rip him off somehow.
I was not.
The coupon was bonafide; he would be reimbursed by the company.
But he would be reimbursed for the complete value of the face cream, while only allowing me the seniors discounted value.
Now it was my turn to feel ripped off.
And amidst all of this, I couldn't help but wonder if I would have been raked over the coals and given the third and fourth degree if I had worn my usual clean clothing with matching accessories, hair combed and lip gloss applied.
My usual self that I like to present outwardly and to the world on any other given day.
Except this day the store was conveniently on the way home from the barn and I thought I would kill two birds with one stone.
Well, at least you got your free face cream, I tried to console myself on my way to my car.
But I couldn't help but feel less than; that I had been somehow deemed unworthy of the store, unworthy of the coupon for the free face cream. What would a homeless person want with free face cream anyway?
Do appearances really matter that much? And more importantly, should they?
And it happened again more recently.
I was on my way home from the barn, looking dirty and mismatched, but I had to pick up some household essentials, namely some milk and some juice.
The checkout lady, whom I recognized and is normally very nice to me, didn't make eye contact.
Nor did she ask me if I had my "points card" - something they ALWAYS ask.
We do judge books by their covers all the time, even though we are told we should not.
And on those particular days, I felt judged by my cover.
And now I know how it feels.
It is not nice.
And perhaps most people don't care how they look and go about their business anyways.
I see people in sweatpants and ballcaps all the time.
That is not me.
I was always encouraged by my pristine mother to put some makeup on, do my hair, dress nicely, etc.
And there is nothing wrong with that.
In fact, I have built my life and even careers on looking presentable.
And so therefore, it was a big step for me to step into that store looking less than.
And now, knowing that it does not feel so nice, I really have to think about judging someone next time, based on how they look.
And give them a lot more grace.