I have complained before about people treating me inhumanely because I stand behind a desk and wear a nametage, but today I experienced one of the perks that this can bring. People don't think of you as quite a human being when you wear a nametag. You're another faceless, nameless machine, making no dent on their day. These two gentlemen were among the less abrasive sort; instead of treating me with inhuman cruelty simply because they couldn't think of me as being on the same level as themselves, they simply ignored me. Perhaps I can take this time to offer a note of caution: just because the person with the nametag doesn't react to your conversation, doesn't mean they're not listening. Observe:
"Those Tidwells, what a nice couple. You know, I went to their 50th wedding anniversary the other day, and I found out something interesting about Bob. You'll never believe this..."
"What? Tell me."
"Well, apparently, when Bob was in the navy those long years ago, he got a tattoo. And not just any tatto, but a tatto immortalizing his girlfriend's name on some unspeakable part of his body. No, wait, get this- it's not her name!"
"What?! No way! Bob? Nice, quiet Bob?"
"Totally! [Okay, he didn't say "totally," but he totally would have if he'd been twenty years younger.] And she told me this, his wife- I asked her, 'Well, didn't he have it removed?' and she said (and with such emotion in her voice! I could tell she hated it.) 'No, I see it every night.'"
"That's crazy!"
And, indeed, it was.
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