‘Excuse me?’ I said, taken aback.
“You brushed your shoulder at me!” the man said indignantly.
“Don’t play dumb! Didn’t your father teach you any manners?” My mouth hung open in disbelief as I looked the disheveled man over. His hair was a mess and his coat was tattered and stained. Clearly, he had some screws loose.
I should have ignored him.
“Right, I brushed my shoulder! Oh no.” I mocked.
“So you admit it then? You brushed your shoulder at me?!” he was indignant. Another shopper walked up, her hands on her hips.
“What’s your problem, jerk?” she said, glaring at me.
“I’m sorry?” I said, squinting at her in confusion. They must have known each other. Maybe they were going to try and scam me or something? The man started explaining passionately how he was just minding his business when I came up and started bothering him. The woman called over an employee.
A teenager with neatly combed hair and square-rimmed glasses came over and asked what the problem was. The disheveled man started to tell him the same story he told the woman.
“Sir, did you brush your shoulder at him?” the boy stared at me intensely.
I started to feel like the aisles were closing in, sweat forming on my brow.
“Look, I think these two aren’t all there or something, I was just walking along…”
“Sir, did you brush your shoulder?” he interrupted me, his voice stern. The manager was approaching now. Finally, someone who I could reason with.
“Jeremy, is everything all right?” he was eyeing me with concern.
“Well, it seems that this man here apparently brushed his shoulder at the gentleman in the coat here.”
The woman who approached earlier interjected, ‘He did!”
“Hmm,” the manager said, now resting his hand on his cellphone like he was ready to call for security at a moment’s notice.
“What is going on here? Are you all taking crazy pills?” I said, starting to get upset.
“Sir, you need to calm down,” the manager said as he puffed his chest slightly.
“Calm down?! What is the problem? I brushed my shoulder? So what? Is that a crime? Yeah, I brushed my shoulder?” I couldn’t help that my voice was getting louder.
“Okay… Sir, I’m going to ask you to leave now,” the manager said, now flicking on his phone and calling someone.
“Hi Davis, can you escort the man in aisle 4 out of the store, please?”
“WHAT!?” I said, floored at what was happening. Suddenly, two security guards approached from behind, one grabbing my arm. I flinched.
“Get away from me! What’s going on with you people? Fine, I’ll leave, I won’t shop here ever again.” I said, feeling like I was going insane. As I walked down the aisle, I saw even more people had gathered, asking the man what had happened, shaking their heads. I saw someone behind a pallet holding up their phone at me.
“Are you filming me?” I said. The person didn’t respond, they just gave me a dumb sarcastic smile that said ‘eat shit, dumbass’. I was going to confront them, but the security guards started walking towards me. I couldn’t stand being in this circus of a store for another second.
Why were they acting like I had committed some wild indignity? Like ‘brushing a shoulder’ was equivalent to flipping someone off? Was this a new thing? Some meme I hadn’t heard of? I knew of brushing something off, but not as a slight to someone. I looked it up online and couldn’t find anything. I stared out into nothing, confused, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
I decided to grab a coffee at a café I liked to try and distress. I walked in, and the server said she would be one second. The door chime went off, and two others walked in.
“Hey, how’s it going? I’ll be right with you guys.” the girl said as she finished up with what she was doing. The chime went off again, and in walked another. She walked right up to the counter, nodding at the two guys who had walked in before her.
They smiled at her, and one stretched his arms out toward the counter, signaling for her to go ahead. That was nice of him, I thought, but I was still waiting.
“Sorry, but I was actually first,” I said, raising my hand.
“Okay…?” the woman said, seemingly annoyed.
“You’ll have to wait your turn, I’m afraid, sir,” the barista said as she began taking her order. I started laughing to myself. Was she some kind of celebrity? Worn down from the encounter from earlier, I ignored the mistake, that was until the server called for the next customer and the two men barged in front.
“Guys… look, I let that other woman go ahead, but it’s my turn now, okay?”
All three of them looked at me with daggers.
“Excuse us, we were here second… that means we get served first. Last come, first served?” they looked at each other like I was crazy.
“What…” I said, my mouth dry. Not again.
“Sir, please, once I finish serving them, I will…” the door again.
“Hello!” the man said, all of them greeting him warmly.
“Once I finish serving… them,” she now gestured to the man who had just entered the store, “I will get to you, okay?”
I felt my blood pressure increasing. I had to get out of here. Was there some kind of holiday going on? Some event I didn’t know about? I practically ran to my car, flinging the door open. I slammed it shut and flicked on the ignition. I just needed to get home. I started driving the route I always took, but I couldn’t help but think everyone around me was driving aggressively.
I came to a stop light, It was red. Someone behind me began to lay on the horn. “IT’S RED, IDIOT! LET’S GO!” the car sped off through the intersection. He just ran a red, I thought, at least until I saw three more cars speed past, honking as they drove by.
Why were they all running the red? I started to get uncomfortable. Was I doing something wrong? Were the lights not working properly? The light switched to green, I started to make my turn. I heard the booming air horn of a semi-truck and screamed as it barrelled past, only inches from my window.
Cars were honking, and people on the sidewalk were looking at me angrily. “MOVE IT!” I saw someone mouthing from across the road. I panicked and stepped on the gas.
At this point, I’m getting really freaked out, to be honest. I drove the rest of the way stopping on greens and going on reds. I wasn’t arrested, and I’m at home now, but I’m extremely confused. Does anyone know what’s happening?
I texted some family and friends, and the ones that responded said that they were surprised I would brush my shoulder at someone. My friend said, and I quote, ‘it’s always been go on red, stop on green,’ and that he was coming over because he was worried about me.
I feel like I can’t even trust them… go on red?
Something wrong is happening here.