There’s a fellow at my retail workplace, let’s just call him P.V., Big burly, football (rugby for my British followers) physique; complete with the echoing footsteps and all. He’s the popular alpha dog around. He’s only 23 years old, yet he’s the 2nd most experienced person in his department. He knows he’s the top dog. You can see it in his stride.
I’ve known this dude for a year now, and in between the occasional small talk that is exchanged, we don’t talk to each other. And that’s good.
Why is that good? I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I fell for his practical jokes one too many times. Maybe. Asshole.
He struts around like a boss, his department his kingdom. The only people he listens to are the people more experienced than he is – that number being 1; a forty something women who has been working for 20+years (who by the way, has earned her years as a very knowledgable, cool-headed, viciacious, and savvy employee).
Every time I walk into his territory, my system goes into a sort of “battle stations” mode. But instead of tightening up, tensing, and buckling up like I use to do, my system loosens. Loosens to allow the blood flow to reach all points of my body – for maximum efficiency. It’s systems-a-go whenever we meet.
Then there’s the silence.
I don’t mind the silence; it’s better that way. I don’t have to talk, he doesn’t either. Two dogs passing going about our business; I’m going into his territory. I’m just the visitor, making brief stops before I head back to my own territory. I walk in, I walk out. Head up straight, body relaxed, ready to spring into action when needed. But calm and relaxed, letting him know that I’m respecting his space, yet letting him know I’m ready for anything he throws (metaphorically) at me.
That’s it for now; back to your regular broadcasting messages.