Straight Shootin'

I’m not a naturally confrontational person. Aside from (now far rarer) arguments with friends or family, I’m unlike the Bares in this way. Pop Bare and the rest have no fear of saying what they think in public or in private, consequences be damned. I’ve always been a bit more peaceful, but then, as the youngest, I learned that I would get belted if I spoke too openly to anyone. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten a little less patient, especially with the public, with people who ignore the rest of us, behave badly or in any way forget that—to quote George Costanza, “we are living in a society”. It’s been a long journey from skittery to unflinching, but I have had the benefit of many years of on-the-job training. As our society has suffered the ravages of this modern era, people in front-facing jobs have had to learn to adopt an assertive tack or be squashed under a tide of rude entitlement. My own grit has come from rough personal experience, some from direct contact with the masses. Certainly, there are some people who may be more naturally suited to saying what they think. For me, though, it has come at length and with work from a desire to be better at dealing with the sea of nonsense in the public square.

I always admire people who, like the rest of the Bares, despite social norms, taboos, fear of embarrassment or impending loss of friends or work, can just say what they're thinking. It doesn't take them to the top of any social standing. That’s not really the point. The point is to say what’s on one’s mind. It’s about communication, even when it is a bit rough. 

Most generations after mine (Gen X) tend to react very badly to people speaking directly. I get it. It's one thing to be frank and honest. It is entirely another to be hateful or unkind. I think there is an art to saying what needs to be said and being courteous at the same time. However, there comes a time when courtesy fails and all that remains is the need for straight shootin’. Most situations in the home or as a civilian never rise to the level where one needs to be verbally tough. But when one ventures out into the wilds of society, being unafraid to say what needs saying is a powerful tool.

At work, professionalism dictates that we watch our tongues when treating with some individuals in a candid and up front manner. Customer service methods taught to us and reinforced for decades make front-facing workers a little more subservient to the clientele than we normally would be in regular life. There are a few things one just cannot say while clocked in. That is perhaps for the better. No one wants to deal with Linda in HR. When interacting with the public, though, things can become rather unpleasant. Ask any of my coworkers, who can forward you documentation of their countless interactions with difficult people.

I regularly witness or partake in conversations with members of the public where I come away feeling worried for the state of humanity. People seem to have become less able to hear and process information. They certainly have become averse to responsibility, accountability and trustworthiness. Some evidently believe that the way they speak online works just as well in real life. I won't dig into the myriad reasons why this is in this essay. Generally speaking, there are some folks out there who could use a little more straight shootin’. I've had one or more moments in the last year when I’ve had to act in loco magistratus, (standing in for the police), until they arrive. I’m routinely called to deal with people who have forgotten how to act like civilized humans in public. My tolerance for such behavior is waning and it’s bleeding over into my non-work life, too.

I was wandering around at a store recently, and I heard a ruckus in the next aisle. There was a time when I would have moved away or left with celerity in such a situation, but these days, I'm not so skittish. I moved to the aisle where the fuss was, and was quickly aware of a developing situation. A young female worker was being viciously upbraided by an older woman who apparently had nothing better to do than unload a lifetime of bile at the poor girl. When my presence in the aisle didn't change the situation, I cleared my throat and interrupted pointedly and asked the girl if she could help me find something a few aisles away. We left the older woman—call her Mrs. Vinegar—standing there stammering. Then, when we were moving and clear of Mrs. Vinegar, I asked if the girl was okay and told her I would be a witness for her supervisor if she wanted. She told me that Mrs. Vinegar was prone to such outbursts and that this was nothing new. The whole staff was on edge the moment the woman came in.

I had gone back to browsing when I saw a man who looked managerial approaching with the female worker in his wake. He asked me a few questions, and I verified what I had witnessed. He thanked me. Later, as I purchased my items, I saw the manager laying into Mrs. Vinegar. He made it clear over her loud protests that she had one more chance before he involved the constabulary. She scoffed and threatened to take her business elsewhere. He then became my hero when he told her calmly that he very much hoped she would do just that. I felt akin to the manager and his employee. Here were people whose work was inventory and evaluations and schedules, and they were having to deal with a tiny focal point of nastiness in the shape of a senior citizen. 

I’m usually able to muster a little patience when helping some people. There are a handful for whom my patience has run completely out and with whom I have an internal bet with myself about how long it will be until I reach the end of my tether and haul up my slacks and weigh in with verbal cannonfire. Their names are not important. There was a time when I would never say boo to them. It would have been unthinkable for me, like the good manager of the store, to let them know for all to hear how happy we will all be to see the back of them. The idea of confronting anyone made me jumpy, as if to do such a thing would be to put my head on the chopping block, but the times call for a more direct reaction.

We have better years and worse. Since the pandemic, the number of active loonies seems to have eased up a bit, but rather like a hornets nest, it doesn’t take much to stir some people up. I was 34 when I started in this role. I’m now nearly fifty. The intervening years have been one long generally good series of interactions with essentially nice folks. However, as the time passes, the difficult people we have to deal with seem to get more difficult. Just this week, as I write and revise this essay, we’ve had a few interactions that would curl your hair.

Only once thus far, I'm happy to say, have I had to face down someone dangerous but I had backup and the police were already en route. It could have gone very badly indeed. However, this individual had burned out my patience and I was no longer able to fake tolerance or professionalism. I felt no rage in the moment, just an icy chill and an intense calm. I only wanted to get the man out. He was behaving extremely dangerously. I put myself between him and my coworkers and members of the public and quietly told the man to leave again and again until he finally left. I ignored his bravado and didn’t respond to his threats. I didn't put my hands on him. My coworkers came to my aid and together we got him into the hands of the police. It was nothing like on TV. On several occasions, I was later informed by friends in our police department, that he had attacked several of them, and was charged some time later with “going armed to the terror of the public” for threatening a pregnant woman with a pipe. In every way imaginable, I and my coworkers were fortunate. Things might have gone very badly indeed. And remember, we work at a library. Imagine what it is like for all front-facing public service people out there.

I’m not looking for a fight. I haven’t set myself up as some kind of hero, like Marshal Matt Dillon or my police officer friends. I’m just a regular person. Daily, we have to help all kinds of people and we’re well trained and used to the work. I’ve been very lucky that things aren’t as bad at our library as they have gotten in other places, but we’re aware that the likelihood of something happening is no longer less than zero. The realization has caused a natural dampener on my nonsense-o-meter. I am not mean; most people really are fine and I am happy to help them. In any context. Some people, sadly, just really aren't okay, and yet I'm not even averse to helping or working with them to learn the rules. However, some people really are intolerable and I have no ability to reset the meter. Most of the time, I still opt (when I'm there) to work with them, so my coworkers don't have to, but that's the only reason. Out in the world, if I happen to see them, they will be surprised to realize that my professionalism clocks out when I do.

I still haven't mastered the ability to always say what needs (or what I feel ought) to be said. I'm curt, even terse, but I still have to bring home a paycheck. Confrontation is still not my milieu but I'm getting less and less worried about it. Some of my coworkers are less concerned with taking the guff, too. Some have no tolerance at all for the actions and words of rude or hateful people. They are upset and hurt by other people's actions, which burns me up too. Why be rude? Why be hateful? But, maybe like Mrs. Vinegar, they have no other way to manage their unhappiness. It may be sad, but that doesn’t justify it.

For every wonderful, thoughtful, genuine, kind, delightful, friendly, respectful, caring, decent and lovely person (and these remain the majority) there are those who just cannot manage even a modicum of politeness. It is part of the job to treat everyone equally. I accept their nonsense only because I have to to keep my job, but that acceptance comes with a very limited tolerance. I will only take so much. 

More than just the workplace drama, though, I worry for society. Regular jobs like ours have evolved to require dealing with mental illness, drug addiction and use and just very angry people with no positive outlet for their misery. Assertiveness, confidence and courage in confrontation ought not be necessary for the job description, but sadly, more and more, they are. The only thing that will put such nonsense to a final, total end is straight-shootin’. I'm working to get better at it. I'm hoping that I'm modeling the right way to do it for my coworkers. It isn't easy. 

It sometimes feels like the Wild West out there. Things aren't quite that bad, but some days, we go home feeling like we spent the day dealing with bad guys. Our job, like the heroes of the many westerns from TV and cinema, is to not lose sight of how to not take nonsense from people and remain the good guys and not be contaminated by the negativity, anger and rudeness of some of our fellows. And when the time requires it, I’m working hard to be the kind of guy who is willing to do some straight shootin’.