The cashier at the Family Dollar looked me dead in the eyes throughout our interaction. He asked how my day was and wished me a pleasant evening. He made the sort of jokes that a cashier does to a beloved customer. His pep was, dare I say, manager material.
The whole experience would have been a perfect example of customer service…
If Partner hadn’t been beside me.
See: Partner’s swollen lower face currently makes her resemble a bullfrog. And her nose emits a long white tube that dangles down to a safety pin clipped to her shirt.
After we left, I asked Partner: “Did he ever make eye contact with you?”
She said no.
That was my guess too.
The guy wasn’t only being friendly to me.
He was covering for his discomfort re Partner.
When someone looks grotesque, we’re taught not to stare.
That’s a fine starting point, but it misses the purpose.
If Partner always looked like this, staring would be preferable.
This was worse: this was dehumanization.
Right now, Partner doesn’t mind: She knows she looks weird, but she’s still a human.
Her grotesqueness feels to her like a costume she will soon take off.
But if you were always treated like a non-human, how long would it take for you to doubt it?
Julian Wise 