I have just listened to a fascinating seminar about Dee Graham’s Loving to Survive, published in 1994 by New York University Press which in that era was happy to publish books by radical feminists. The seminar was presented by two women, one of whom is currently working with a publisher to produce a book. The publisher is extremely reluctant to allow her to use the phrase “the reign of terror” to refer to the societal relationship between men and women.
Thanks for this. I absolutely understand the stress of that situation. Even when you DO smile, it's stressful, but if you go in without smiling, the nerves are shrieking, the adrenalin is pumping!
I had this myself last week in a queue in a small shop, where a maskless middle-aged man was being served before me, by a maskless young man, and I was waiting to collect something (a 1-min job, it turned out). The customer wanted to pay for something on credit, which involved lengthy form-filling. I didn't realise what the delay was for some time. By the time I worked it out, I'd already been waiting long enough to make it pointless to leave and come back later. Then another maskless man started queuing behind me.
So I was stuck in a small, unventilated space for TEN MINUTES, trapped between all these maskless men, waiting to collect this thing that I desperately needed that day, and thinking all the time, should I just leave and come back another time? Should I stay? Why on earth is this taking so long? Why hasn't the man serving so much as given me an apologetic look? Am I going to catch Covid? (The case rates are soaring where I am.) And WHY ARE THESE MEN NOT WEARING MASKS?
Finally, the guy left and it was my turn, and I was so fraught and angry by then, I instantly demanded to know why he hadn't TOLD ME as soon as I started queuing, that the customer ahead of me was going to take ten minutes? Since I could then have come back another time and not had to stand for so long in an unventilated space.
The young man stared at me coldly, and said, with no attempt at civility, 'My priority is the customer in front of me. I wasn't even aware of you waiting.'
What he meant, of course, as I could tell from the look he exchanged with the man behind me, was, BECAUSE HE WAS A MAN, AND YOU ARE A MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN, AND THEREFORE UNIMPORTANT. I then said, furious as hell, 'Right, well, I am the customer in front of you now, this is my order number, get me what I want.'
He looked like he wanted to hit me. He practically threw the item at me without a word and then turned straight to the man behind me, with a pointed smile. 'Can I help you, sir?'
I left the shop shaking. And not just with fury, but with abject fear for having DARED speak to a man like that instead of smiling and being appeasing and conciliatory. I was also worried that I had been too rude, that I'd over-reacted and was in the wrong. I then spent several days worrying that this young man would know my name, and possibly my address too, through the order I'd collected, and might come round to exact revenge, even though logically I know that would be highly unlikely. But not IMPOSSIBLE.
Thanks for this. I absolutely understand the stress of that situation. Even when you DO smile, it's stressful, but if you go in without smiling, the nerves are shrieking, the adrenalin is pumping!
I had this myself last week in a queue in a small shop, where a maskless middle-aged man was being served before me, by a maskless young man, and I was waiting to collect something (a 1-min job, it turned out). The customer wanted to pay for something on credit, which involved lengthy form-filling. I didn't realise what the delay was for some time. By the time I worked it out, I'd already been waiting long enough to make it pointless to leave and come back later. Then another maskless man started queuing behind me.
So I was stuck in a small, unventilated space for TEN MINUTES, trapped between all these maskless men, waiting to collect this thing that I desperately needed that day, and thinking all the time, should I just leave and come back another time? Should I stay? Why on earth is this taking so long? Why hasn't the man serving so much as given me an apologetic look? Am I going to catch Covid? (The case rates are soaring where I am.) And WHY ARE THESE MEN NOT WEARING MASKS?
Finally, the guy left and it was my turn, and I was so fraught and angry by then, I instantly demanded to know why he hadn't TOLD ME as soon as I started queuing, that the customer ahead of me was going to take ten minutes? Since I could then have come back another time and not had to stand for so long in an unventilated space.
The young man stared at me coldly, and said, with no attempt at civility, 'My priority is the customer in front of me. I wasn't even aware of you waiting.'
What he meant, of course, as I could tell from the look he exchanged with the man behind me, was, BECAUSE HE WAS A MAN, AND YOU ARE A MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN, AND THEREFORE UNIMPORTANT. I then said, furious as hell, 'Right, well, I am the customer in front of you now, this is my order number, get me what I want.'
He looked like he wanted to hit me. He practically threw the item at me without a word and then turned straight to the man behind me, with a pointed smile. 'Can I help you, sir?'
I left the shop shaking. And not just with fury, but with abject fear for having DARED speak to a man like that instead of smiling and being appeasing and conciliatory. I was also worried that I had been too rude, that I'd over-reacted and was in the wrong. I then spent several days worrying that this young man would know my name, and possibly my address too, through the order I'd collected, and might come round to exact revenge, even though logically I know that would be highly unlikely. But not IMPOSSIBLE.
Reign of terror is about right.