Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Compliment

I'm not sure what made me think of this. I know I was writing someone an email when the memory popped into my head.

A family member that owns a retail store went on vacation and asked me to take a few Saturday shifts while he was gone. I'd open and spend the first few hours alone since the other person that works there didn't start till Saturday noon.
One particular Saturday at a certain time there was only one customer in the store. He was a respectable and sympathetic looking middle aged man. I'm guessing he was of middle eastern descent though he didn't have any features that placed him. - As I'm writing this I realize that somehow I cannot relate the details necessary to understanding why this was memorable to me.

When I was done helping him he said "Thank you. You are a true gentleman." - That was the punchline to this entry, the climax in this story. That compliment really affected me and I can't do it justice.
In the course of our lives, we probably get all sorts of compliments. In a lot of cases it's the compliments of people we respect or like that mean the most to us. A few flattering words from an attractive member of the opposite sex can make us feel quite good too. But here was a man I had never seen before and what he said touched me more than some of the compliments I had gotten from cute girls.
I suppose I can't do justice to his demeanor, the fact that looking and talking to this man you could tell that he had his act together, that he was very confident yet pleasantly humble, unassuming and calm, that he had this aura that somehow attested to him having had life experiences that were deep and numerous beyond what is typical of someone (only) his age.

I realize that if adjectives were sugar, the last sentence would give people a headache. The point is that this compliment somehow inherited value and meaning because of the impression the person who made it gave off. It had enough impact on me that this turned into one of the rare occassions where I was at a loss for words. While fumbling for my grace, the only regretful response I could come up with was:

"You too."