Yesterday, I realized that I’m not a sociopath. I’m just your average, twisted 20-something that has seen way too many horror movies for her own good (and there’s still so many more to see).
I had a gentleman come in, hand on his chest, and requested we call an ambulance because he believes he is having a heart attack. One of my regulars whips out her cell phone, I pick up the store phone and call my co-worker (because my phone doesn’t call out. go figure) and get him to call. Three other customers are bombarding this poor guy, who’s obviously going into shock, that he needs to stay inside or sit down. My regular follows the guy out the door while talking to the dispatcher and trying to keep the guy calm.
My co-worker calls for an ambulance as well and afterwards goes outside to stay with him until the ambulance shows up. The great thing about working where I work is that we are practically a stone’s throw from a Fire Station. This way, it only took a couple minutes for the EMTs to show up.
This scenario freaked out the Little Old Lady I was helping (to the point of telling her repeatedly what was needed and what I had done).
I was a little shaken up, but probably because I have been in a situation similiar to this (and not too long ago at that). And, I’d been dealing with a bit of stress at work and was attempting to remind myself that all I have to do is do my job, do my job fairly well, not piss off any customers, and go the hell home.
Or maybe I’m just good at faking empathy for customers because I work retail.
I was listening to The Nerdist where Chris Hardwick is talking with Penn Jillette and Penn makes an interesting observation that Dean Martin was a sociopath. I found it to be really fascinating and it made me think about what happened yesterday.