Happy

Every time I go to my car mechanic, he says to me “you’re always smiling; you’re always so happy”, and I say, “Yeah, I always pretend to be happy”—and then he comes out from behind the counter like a big, cuddly predator on parole and says “give me a hug” (as he “adjusts my headlights”…that’s common practice, right?).
But back to “you’re always so happy”. I’m not always happy. In fact, I’m rarely happy but I don’t blame the rest of the world for my “inner turmoil” (which is probably just trapped gas). I’m not rude or mean to people for no reason and I don’t walk around with a sourpuss (not that my privates are any of your business). Granted, I’ll probably hate you within five minutes of meeting you but I still try to be friendly and smile at everybody when I first meet them. Apparently, this isn’t the norm. What seems to be the norm is a bunch of adult crybabies who feel that their horrible life experiences are justification for treating strangers with the disdain usually reserved for a redheaded stepchild. This outward rudeness and hatred towards strangers is senseless (unless it’s towards a redheaded stranger, then it’s understandable).
Why are these miserable dolts always the people in jobs dealing with the public? Last month I had to go to the hospital to pick up some records from a recent trip to the ER. The “woman” at the reception area made eye contact with me and stared at me until I reached the desk. What happened next is mindboggling to me. She didn’t smile or change her facial expression as I stood in front of her. She didn’t greet me; she just continued to stare at me with a look of disgust on her face. Had she just eaten (and/or smelled) Indian food? Did she just watch a Julia Roberts movie? I don’t like to make fun of people based on their looks, but once they act like an asshole, it’s carte blanche. Of course, what accentuated her ugliness even more was her miserable attitude.
At first, I thought she was on the phone because she had on a headset, so I didn’t want to interrupt her. But when she continued to angrily glare at me (Mexican standoff style) it wasn’t until she rolled her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh followed by “uh, yeah can I help you?” that I realized it was my job to greet the greeter. I said, “I’m sorry I thought you were on the phone”. This time she grunted (or maybe she was clearing her throat after choking on a bit of self-hatred) before growling, “Whadaya need?” When your face looks like a cross between a grouper fish ; a komodo dragon; and the product of inbreeding, shouldn’t you be trying to detract from that with a pleasant demeanor and a friendly smile? (A scuba diving helmet probably wouldn’t hurt either).
Can you believe this is who was hired to greet people coming to visit their ill friends or family members? You walk in upset and worried and now you have to be made to feel like you’re “bothering” the receptionist by expecting her to do her job—a job that involves looking up a name and providing a room number. She can’t do this with a smile (and without Cheetos, Lorna Doones, and orange Shasta strewn across her workspace)?
It’s not just the receptionist at the hospital either. I’ve encountered this at retail stores, doctors’ offices, restaurants, etc. They all have that attitude like, “Ugh, why are you bothering me?” Well, I’m bothering you genius because you’re the idiot who signed up for this job—the job that includes working with the public. I’m sorry you had a shitty childhood and your absentee father started a new family with his new, younger wife, while your tear-soaked face was buried in your Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pillowcase every night. How about becoming a petty thief or an erratic yet lovable substance abuser like the rest of the troubled kids? Or how about becoming a goddamn great actress like me? Smile when you feel like crying; laugh when you feel like screaming; and always smile and laugh while you’re repeatedly stabbing somebody. Remember, it’s all about the presentation.