Today I shaved. I really don’t like doing that.
About a mile from my house I realized that I had done a poor job, and had missed a spot about the size of a dime. It’s hard to ignore a dime-sized patch of facial hair next to someone’s mouth. So I pulled into a gas station to buy a cheap razor.
As I approached the door, so did a woman, so I reached out, grabbed the handle, and cleared the way for her. In turn, she ingored me. Perhaps she was scared by the abnormal hair growth on my face.
It may be worth noting here that the woman 1) appeared older than me, and 2) was not notably attractive (in case you think that’s why I opened the door). The truth is, old habits die hard, and I still do those things my grandmother taught me. I still say “Please” and “Thank you.” I still say “sir” and “ma’am.” And I still hold open the door.
The cliché is that chivalry is dead. Today’s experience is a common one, which makes me wonder: Is it? Or is it our attention and appreciation that has died?
