"I was just trying to help!"

Sometimes, there are people in that waltz in our lives thinking they know all about you. But the truth is; they know nothing. They may try to boss you around, judge you, or ruin your life strictly because they think they know how. Although there are times when we are all wrong, there are a few times when we’re right, too. These know-it-alls are extremely annoying and refuse to take no as an answer. Let me elaborate with a narration:

Today is Saturday. I had not gone to bed until 1:30 this morning because I myself had a spell where I was a know-it-all. I judged someone wrongly. Not that I was wrong in what I know, but I was wrong in the way I handled what I know. This morning, I was yanked out of bed at 9:30. This is not enough hours for my brain and body to work properly, obviously. I was awakened to go camping, an activity I am not highly interested in. As we piled the entire luggage into the car, I manipulated the radio to blast Taylor Swift, and rode to pick up 3 children under the age of 11. As we approached the dreaded campground, I searched for WiFi that would allow me to Facebook, Tweet, and Blog to my heart’s content under the shade of the weeping willow trees overlooking a lake. My attitude lifted suddenly to find the internet connection I had been crossing my fingers for, and I attempted to connect. The catch was the internet cost something, as do all dreams. As I tried to figure out a way to punch my grandmother’s credit card into the website, it rejected me. My grandmother’s generous payment was rejected by the website numerous times, so I piled my grandmother, my laptop, and my cousins into the car and drove to the front office to fix my internet connection. I eagerly walked into the office, manned by a dark woman with her hair in a bun. She was tall, with long fingernails, narrow glasses, and a fake smile across her face. She had a scratchy voice as she greeted my grandmother and me and asked how she could be of assistance. As we told her of the incident, she replied quickly, “You can’t get on the internet. It’s not possible.” I smiled at her and told her how I have been on the internet through this location; it was just being difficult with accepting the payment. She was shocked at my progress and explained to me how to access the account. The attitude in which she approached me was smug and unpleasant as she quickly took over my laptop and tried the same thing I had just tried 50 times before. The whole while, she was talking about PayPal and how to hustle the extra, unneeded information from my grandmother. She didn’t allow me to give up; instead she made me repeat the same process over and over, so much so that I had the information memorized. She made phone calls, and went to nearly the ends of the earth to get me to the internet. She escalated the situation immensely, when all I wanted was a way to get on and check my websites.  The office attendant left the room, and came back in soon after smelling of cigarette smoke. As she hovered over me in the desk she insisted I use, she breathed her words onto my neck with a smell that hurt my stomach. I quickly got up from the desk, thanked her for her kind help, and was on my way. There was no way the internet was worth this torture and headache.  Her attitude was indescribably smug, determined, and know-it-all. This made her unbearable to work with.

            But maybe I was just being negative. Maybe if I would have let her expression and tone roll off of my back, I wouldn’t have gotten annoyed so quickly. Maybe if I would have taken into consideration the fact that she has a story of why she acts that way. Maybe she was a computer technician or an engineer before she worked at a campground office. What if she had a disabled child that forces her to talk to people as if they don’t know anything? There are endless possibilities to the reasons she is the way she is. To judge would be hypocritical. To automatically think I’m better than this woman simply because she reeks of cigarette smoke is not mature, or becoming of me. And although I didn’t act this way to her face, the thoughts going through my mind as she was rudely jerking my computer from me were enough to feel guilty for. The way I talked to my grandma about my thoughts as we walked back to the car in defeat was enough to make me bite my tongue. She was trying to be of help to me, no matter how she unintentionally came off. She made conversation, and didn’t speak badly about me. Why would I do that to her?

             I make this confession because I think we all do what I did, to some degree, whether worse or not so bad. We all make little assumptions and judgments about people we hardly know. We decide whether or not we like somebody before we even know them.  We have a terrible habit of deciding how people are just by what we see hear or read. People can surprise you if you give them the chance. You should give it a try.