Indian UPS Store Man, Why Do You Hate Me?

Here in rural suburbia we don't have a lot of choices when it comes to public services. I've been here for two years and still don't know where (or even if) the post office is. What we do have, located conveniently in the Harris Teeter cloned strip mall near my home is a UPS store. This establishment is run by, I believe, the proprietor, who happens to be a gentleman from India. I use the term gentleman loosely, and with artistic license, for he does not, by any stretch of the imagination, qualify as a gentle man. No, he is a mean spirited tyrant who in no way embodies his countrymen from that fine sub-continent from which he hails.

When I think of India, a number of things come to mind: a population approaching 1.1 billion souls, a rich and antiquated history, the best kind of savory, spicy victuals you ever want to taste, lovely feminine saris worn by raven haired lovelies. And a lilting kind of vocal cadence that shines through even spoken English. I also think of gentle folk and gentle ways when I look through my rose colored eyeglass (yes I know it's a hot mess in terms of economic and social issues, but I'm using broad impressionistic strokes here, so go with it). So, my UPS Store "gentleman" doesn't fit the bill. At all. What's wrong with this man, you ask? Well for one, he hates this country. This country, of course, being America. Now I'm not one of those patriotic zealots who wave a flag at the drop of a hat. I see the good, the bad and the ugly in this fine country of ours. But I do hate ignorance. And more than ignorance I hate mean spiritedness. Now, I try to give folks who are pissy and sour pussed the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps they just found out some horrible and life altering news, lost their job, their loved one(s), their house, or who knows what. Bad things happen, and this can put you in a decidedly bad mood. But there are some folks who walk the earth with a chip on their shoulder, and I suspect my UPS Store man is one of them.

I know that this is not a fluke--his bad mood--because I've had dealings with him going on two years now. Ever the poster child for white middle class guilt syndrome (coupled with intensive training in cultural awareness as an anthropologist), I am acutely aware that other people are simply more deserving than I, and as such should be revered as I revel in self-admonishment. That's just the way it is, what with the sins of the fathers and stuff floating around and inhibiting good karma. So be it. So with that in mind, every time I must post a parcel, buy stamps, send a fax or conduct any type of business that requires the diabolical UPS man's services, I am on my best behavior. Polite. Gentle. Submissive. Unquestioning. Patient. All of those things Americans who have to wait in line for a service generally are not. I consider this my penance for having a roof over my head and two known parents. And the UPS man's response to this? He is rude to me. Not so much so that I feel justified in taking my business across town to another UPS guy, but subtly and with deeper undercurrents of detectable loathing.

Since I am the domestic goddess cum hausfrau of my household, it's up to me, generally, to deal with all matters postal. So the spousal never--until recently--had to deal with the surly UPS guy. Every time I reported the rude and generally aggressive posture of the UPS guy, the spouse would pooh-pooh me and tell me I was reading way too much into things. That is, until recently, when HE dealt with this man. Was the UPS man rude to my male, foreign spouse? No, he was not. But it was revealed to me, with acute mirth and hilarity, I must say, that a friendlier and even somewhat conspiratorial side of the UPS man's personality emerged when a fellow foreigner entered the room. The following occurred when my husband dealt with this man:
1. UPS guy pointed to a poster he had behind the counter of the Taj Mahal and asked his patron if he knew the building. Spouse replied "Yes, why that's the Taj Mahal. Everyone knows that." To which UPS guy hissed in response "No Sir. They do not. Americans do not know this fine building. It is only foreigners educated in better schools who know this building. It is a pity and a shame how ignorant these Americans are." [I'm really not exaggerating here]
2. Spouse had to send a fax. He was charged exactly HALF the amount that I was charged when sending a fax, by virtue of his maleness, his foreignness or BOTH (I suspect both).

When I learned these things, I seriously thought about confronting the UPS guy, but then thought, no, maybe he has his reasons. Maybe he had a hard life. Maybe I should go home and don a hair shirt and strike myself repeatedly with a flogger since I was born with means. Maybe...