Explosive anger is not usually my forte. A few months ago I had an extremely stressful week at work, was tired from burning the candle at both ends with sport and socialising and I had a very very rare rage blackout whilst shopping at Pak n Save. I had made an effort to leave work early to get to a few stores before 5pm and had a very tight schedule of chores to get through. I made the amateur mistake of deciding to stop briefly to grab a couple of things at the supermarket at 4.30pm. Peak hour for soccer mums with multiple trolleys jam-packed with a months supply of own-brand necessities and screaming toddlers. I have a problem with background noise (I tend to get agitated and edgy) so make a point of never shopping at Pak n Slave as it is, but at peak hour, in a serious hurry I was not in my element.
After surviving a million-isle indoor hike that just about required a backpack and refreshments (that place is way too big) and dodging throngs of shoppers like a stealthy supermarket ninja, I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a 1 person queue in the express checkout. I carefully placed my handful of items on the conveyor and saw the wine display a few steps away, glanced at the man getting served and judged that I could easily be back in time with wine in hand and not hold anyone up. At this stage there was no one waiting behind me anyway. After barely 3 seconds I had selected my wine and was back to my groceries BEFORE the man had his final item scanned. I was incensed to find a skeletal, nondescript uniformed lady had repositioned my items so that she could squeeze in front of me. I lost the plot.
Everything that came out of my mouth was a venom bullet and so well constructed and quick that the lady, who clearly needed to learn how to queue, had no response other than to look at the floor. Although I have on many occasion reconstructed conversations with retrospect, this time I said everything I should have and yet it didn’t feel as great afterwards as I always thought it would. I was still angry when I pushed my trolley to the car and she came around the parking lot and I made a point of walking directly across her path obscuring her passage and sending her serious jet-stares. I don’t think I have ever been so explosively angry at someone I didn’t know, and in public!
Fast forward 3 weeks. I donate blood on a regular basis. Midway through the donor interview I got this sickening feeling that I recognised the nurse who was interrogating me. I just hoped she didn’t recognise me. There was sufficient normal nurse banter, shooting the breeze about the weather but I was still not convinced I was safe. I was about to learn a lesson in Karma, big time. I have never had a more painful, marathon donation experience. The woman absolutely went to town on my vein, convinced she had “hit a valve”, she had an excuse to prod me several times until I was nearly passed out and another nurse came to assist. I am sure the nurse was sporting a satisfied smug grin when I left with a swollen and bruised elbow. Never have I had a more real example of “what goes around comes around”.
C.K.
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