Today I was Called 'Sir'

Today I was called 'sir'.

First, let me say that I have a complex about my appearance.  Although I have feminine features, I grew up constantly being told I look like my dad.  Sure, my father is handsome, but as a little girl I didn't appreciate my appearance being likened to a grown man.

One time, I showed a picture of my father, age twelve, to my niece and nephew.  I asked them who they thought was in the picture.

"That's you. Auntie, when you were a little girl."

"No," I replied laughing.  "It's Grampy when he was a little boy."

They laughed, too.  "Wow, you look like Grampy!"

I knew.  I know.  I look like a man because I look like my father.  To offset this, I've always tried to be girlie.  I put barrettes in my hair, I wear make-up everyday and I prefer skirts over pants.

A couple years ago, I was cast as Mr. Mushnik in Little Shop of Horrors.  I had originally intended to play the role as Mrs. Mushnik, and prepared my character to be a cougar, intent on coercing Seymour into partnership through more seductive means. After a few weeks, the director decided he wanted me to play a man after all.  I was hesitant at first, but then decided to embrace the reverse sex role.  I practiced my voice, my posture, my gestures and even developed my "man face".

I nailed it.  Some of the stage crew who showed up mid-production didn't realize I was a woman until they saw me half-dressed in the green room.  The audience was dumbfounded I was actually a woman when I revealed my sex as we mingled post-performance.  Even my husband, the love of my life, thought that when my character came on stage that it was just "some guy" before he realized - Good God!  That's my wife!

To make matters worse, the time it takes for me to transform into a man is less than 10 minutes.  I don't know which is worse - that I can convincingly look like a man, or that I can convincingly look like a man in such a short amount of time.

This brings me back to today, when I was called "sir".

I wanted to buy a soda, something I don't have very often, and usually give in to when I have a craving.  I stopped into a gas station and retrieved a Diet Pepsi from the cooler then approached the counter with my item.  The temperature outside was nearly 40 degrees, not bad for early December, so I felt I could get away with wearing my down-filled white vest with faux fur trim instead of a bulky winter jacket.  Because the turtleneck I was wearing was purple, I selected purple eyeshadow for my make-up that morning. The young man at the counter scanned my soda and asked: "Is that all today, sir?"

Sir?  I turned around.  He must have been talking to a man behind me who just wanted to put $20 into his tank.  There was no one there.  Slowly returning my gaze back to the cashier I asked him with confusion:"Sir?"

He cleared his throat: "Is that all today?"

"Yeah," I answered quietly.  He told me the total and I fished around in my purse (purple as well) for the exact change.  I was replaying his question in my head.  Had I misheard him?  Which word could I have misconstrued for sir?  Was he just being a jerk?  Did he misspeak and hoped to correct himself nonchalantly?  The puzzled look on my face was inevitably too much for him to bear and he confessed the situation.

"People hardly ever listen to what I say.  I ask them: 'How are you today?' and they answer: 'That's all, thanks.'  So I just started saying nonsense to see who was paying attention.  I saw the confusion on your face and thought, Oops!  She's paying attention!  Better be careful what I say."

I laughed, relieved.  He didn't think I looked like a man after all.  He was simply doing an experiment in attentiveness.

As I left the store I began thinking more deeply about this.  We encounter so many people in our lives but because we are preoccupied with work, family, illness, finances, appearances, we loose sight of them even though are standing right in front of us.  That clerk was not a member of my family, nor was he an old acquaintance; he was some guy who worked at a gas station.  And I was just another person coming in to buy a soda.  We could have had a simple transactional exchange: without friendliness and without ever acknowledging each other, too wrapped up in our own interests to care about the person with whom we are interacting.

Mother Theresa is quoted saying: "Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier."

That is the person I want to be.  The friendly customer, the kind coworker, the thoughtful friend and the loving aunt and wife.  I want to be the positive energy that makes people feel better about themselves and feel better about their lives, if even for a moment.  I think if we all take a moment to put down the phone, look someone in the eye, genuinely smile and have even the simplest of conversation it will offer warm sunlight into their day and ours. 

Today I was called 'sir', and because of it, I was made aware of the disconnect I have with people.  It made me feel more self-conscious than looking like a man.