Over lunch a few weeks ago, my friend Andrew told me, “DON’T BE A THROW RUG!”
I stared at him, wide-eyed and puzzled, until he remembered that the American slang is “doormat”. Apparently, ‘throw rug’ is the German equivalent.
If the floor fits, wear it; I took Martha Beck’s Doormat Quiz, and it confirmed what friends have said for years; I let people walk on me. Nay, I practically encourage them.
Late last night, I went walking at the college track. Ambling under the stars is a wonderful meditation, plus it saves a fortune on sunscreen. Because the track’s fountain is inconveniently located (and somewhat icky), I bought my aluminum water bottle along and parked it on the ground.
After I’d walked my first mile, someone turned on the floodlights at a nearby baseball field. “Awww, curses,” I thought, “Now strangers can see my shiny water bottle.”
Sure enough, by the end of my next lap, the bottle was gone. I squinted into the darkness, looking for thieves. Was it one of the four Indian girls? No, they were empty-handed. The hulking giant with a flat-top? No, thankfully. Across the field, I saw a flash of copper. A shirtless man on a cell phone was hustling toward the fence with my bottle in his hand.
In the past, I’d have let him go. I’m shy, and dread confrontation the way polar bears do climate change. Besides, nice girls don’t accuse strangers of stealing, even when said stranger obviously has.
Niceness be damned; that was MY water bottle, and he was getting away.
“Excuse me!” I called.
The shirtless man kept walking. I observed that his muscles had muscles.
I tried again: “EXCUSE ME!”
He’d almost reached the exit.
I broke into a run. Only when he was five feet away did I realize that he was 1) a head shorter than me and 2) one of my old computer lab patrons. What luck!
Mr. Shirtless looked up from his phone, surprised. “The water bottle with blue flowers?” I asked. He handed it over, saying “I thought someone had left it behind.”
Now, I don’t believe he meant to steal anything— but whatever his intentions, the bottle WOULD have disappeared if I’d kept my mouth shut.
Friends, my doormat days are drawing to a close.
Good for you for speaking up! I share that dread of confrontation and I know it’s hard to speak up even in situations where somebody is taking advantage of or otherwise wronging you, so I am proud of you for not letting it happen. Starting with the little situations makes the bigger ones that much more manageable.
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Go You! Before you know it, you’ll be taking on biker gangs! Not really… please don’t ever try that… If ever we get out to the east coast for the summer, I want to be able to see you in one piece :)
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You may have prevented a good boy from going wrong. This could have been the gateway swiping that would have led to a water bottle stealing compulsion.
At the very least you boldly saved yourself a trip across campus to the lost and found.
Well Done Ms. Jaunty!
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I’m proud of you, Beck! :D I can’t wait to see what else you stand up for next!
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Angela – Thanks for the moral support. =)
Lori – Fancy meeting you here! I won’t start fistfights with any biker gangs. Cross my heart.
Stitchywitchy – He’ll thank me for this someday! When I retrieved the bottle, I wondered Wait, did he drink from this? Do I have to wash it now?”, but drank anyway. Fighting crime is thirsty work.
Celia – Awww, thank you! I’m ready to take a stand against Not Seeing Celia Often Enough. Prepare to face my vengeance.
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And wait until you get to the northeast! You’ll have plenty of opportunity to toss that throw rug out for good!
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Rebekah Reply:
July 27th, 2010 at 7:04 PM
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooh boy. Talk about a trial by fire.
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