Friday I finally pulled the trigger on a purchase I’ve been wanting to make for a long time. I bought new cookware. Good stuff – Calphalon Tri-Ply, which is their competitive product to All-Clad’s professional products. Twelve-piece set, I think it came to about $300 after the outlet mall discount coupon was applied.
The conversation was jovial with the three clerks in the shop during the whole shopping experience, very friendly and colloquial throughout. My lady friend seemed to be the object of some jealousy from these ladies because I was buying the cookware for myself; she told them that I keep my house tidy and well-organized on my own, rather than expecting her to do the work. (It is, after all, my house.) They were envious of her for finding an independent man rather than one who expects his wife to mother him. They told us we should be life coaches (rather an exaggeration, I think, but flattering) and while two of them were talking to her, the third one turned to me and said, “God must have sent you to talk to us.” I gave my reply a moment’s consideration, and then said, “If that were true, it would be pretty ironic.” I probably should not have said that, because of course she asked, “Why?” And I was obliged to answer, “Because we’re both atheists.”
This turned out to be a major revelation for her, and she immediately broke into the others’ conversation to relate it. By that time my transaction was pretty much completed and we said our goodbyes; everyone was smiles, and I took my new cookware out to my car.
That night I used the big pot to make some spaghetti, and carefully cleaned and dried it. In the morning I looked in it and found some spots of what looked like rust. So I took it back to the store and was met by one of the same three clerks we’d talked to the previous afternoon. The smiling friendliness and chatty conversation was gone; she was rather cool and curt, and tried several ways to make the spots disappear rather than replace the pot, approaching it as if it were a cleaning issue. There was no reason to assume it was such; she knew I’d only cooked spaghetti in it, and it had been perfectly clean when I put it away the previous evening. Brown spots appearing on clean steel are rust, period. Eventually the store manager got involved and promptly gave me a new pot. But the transaction was rather grudging, and quite a turnaround from the previous day.
Now, could it be that we were not as welcome on the second visit simply because I was bringing them a problem instead of a sale? Of course it could. But somehow I don’t think that was the whole reason. I get the distinct feeling that I made us unwelcome by mentioning our atheism. I don’t see why that should be a problem, really; after all, I was not the one who brought up religion. But on the second visit, the woman clearly did not want to serve us, and it felt personal. I can’t put my finger on exactly why it felt that way, but it did. I could be wrong, of course. Maybe she was just having a bad day. But it didn’t feel that way.
This will not be a problem in the future. I just won’t go back to that location if I ever have another problem with the cookware. It has a lifetime warranty, and I can take it to any Calphalon dealer. But it’s a little distressing nonetheless. Maybe I’m just being oversensitive and causing my own distress.
But maybe not.
Well, you said that everyone was smiles when you said your goodbyes, so if it was the atheism, it took some time to work. As a former insider, my guess is that she mentioned the nice independent, all-cooking, all-cleaning gentleman to her pastor, elder or some busybody in her milieu, and was told to avoid contamination by the Snare of Satan.
On the whole, most of us are not good guessers when it comes to intuiting the motives of others. A) our guesses tend to reveal things about ourselves more than about the other, and b) approaching dealings with others as behavioral rather than a psychological transactions will generally produce more rewarding results.
PS–Couldn’t have been rust…it was a stainless steel pot. Must’ve been dried on sauce.
It’s often very difficult to discern the motivations of others, even when, or perhaps especially when they are articulated. In my experience, the people who bring god into every conversation are precicely the same petty, venal creeps that would try to screw you once they realize you don’t share their beliefs. But, although it supports your suspicion, that generalization is based on a necessarily small sample. You’ll never know for sure.
But your distress over the question is a deifferent matter. That’s all on you, Dwasifar. The choice to diverge from the mainstream requires a thick skin. Illegitimi non carborundum.
Stainless steel is not rustproof. It merely stains less than steels not alloyed with nickel, chromium, molybdenum, or whatever non-rusting netals that are in the mix. Nonetheless it is very odd that it would rust overnight. Was it made in China?
It was, in fact, made in China. If there are metallurgical imperfections in stainless steel, you’ll get little isolated rust spots, which is exactly what happened.
And I don’t use spaghetti sauce.
I’m not sure you can categorize atheism as “choice to diverge from mainstream.” I don’t see that I have any actual choice in the matter. It’s not in my nature to believe something simply because it would be more convenient to believe it. The closest I could come would be pretending to believe it, which carries problems of its own.
I suppose you could say my choice lies not in what I believe, but whether I should stay in the closet with it.
Either that, or it took them by surprise at first, and then they all talked about us after we left.
To be an atheist is to threaten the very foundation of existence for most people. The atheist is the embodiment of successful refutation of their beliefs. The atheist cannot be permitted to go about freely, thumbing his nose at civilized society. The atheist is morally equivalent to a sex offender in the eyes of many people, I believe. Atheists, then, should be driven out of town by decent people, much like the small birds gang up and harry a crow or blue jay. Thus, you found yourself attacked. Of course, you did unmask yourself the day before.
I emphasized the word be above, then in my haste neglected to carry my thought through. FWIW, I feel that being an atheist suggests a conscious or voluntary affiliation with a movement, philosophy, or organization. Other people are sensitive to this concept of belonging(ness). This implied membership requires that at least two elements be true: that an organized atheist effort exists, and that one has joined. One’s critics will leap to the conclusion that both premises are true. Reflect on your response to others who say they are Democrats, Catholics, or Russians. Extend that to vegetarians, homosexuals, accountants, or women, and you will see how we impute the existence of hypothetical membership. Consider the dialog: A–No thank you. I don’t eat meat. B–So, you’re a vegetarian, are you? Suddenly, A is on the spot for belonging to something that does not exist, and for carrying the mantle of all the characteristics of vegetarians. So, what does A have to do the get along, if this burden does not suit him? Simply act naturally, and resist the temptation to display. I have a friend whose sexual orientation is not mainstream. When he acts like a queen, no one wants to be around him. When he acts like a human being, he’s a great guy. (Note: this is not the same thing as being in the closet.) In reality, no one cares or thinks about this guy’s orientation when he is not flaunting it. Hell, I don’t flaunt mine. When it’s important for others to know he’s interested sexually, they know. Otherwise, it’s not particularly relevant. The same goes with atheism. Making people who are not receptive aware of one’s personal beliefs come with some risk, and Dwasifar’s experience is one of them. Here, my advice is to act atheist rather than being atheist. Go about your life following your own conscience. Avoid taking your beliefs out like your grandchildren’s pictures to show to any and all.
You know, I’d rather expected that advice. It amounts to “don’t rub people’s noses in it.” But I didn’t. Remember, I didn’t bring up religion initially; it was the clerk who did that. Why should it be that when one person expresses belief, and the second person expresses disbelief, it’s only the second person who should have kept his mouth shut? To use your analogy of the grandchildren’s photos, imagine if someone spontaneously showed you their photos, then accused you of being gauche if you pulled out your own.
To say that it is the atheist’s responsibility to keep a low profile, without any reciprocal responsibility for the christian, is basically saying that christian scorn for vocal atheists is justified but atheist scorn for vocal christians is not. This implicitly gives christians privileged status – I may speak freely, you may not. It’s a status they tend to explicitly claim, too; every time some high-profile atheist gets in the news, there is never a shortage of christians informing atheists they live in a “christian nation” and so should just shut up. There is never any promise from the christians to shut up; it’s only the atheists who should shut up and accept their subordinate status.
Typically I don’t go around proclaiming atheism. I tend not to bring it up. But in this case, I had a split-second choice between pretending to agree by default, which would have been odious, or speaking my mind, which I chose to do. If that bothers christians, well, maybe eventually they’ll realize it’s what non-christians have to go through all the time.
You know, I get it. Pressure from believers is frustrating, annoying, and embittering. A near stranger and I met dog walking. We exchanged pleasantries and began to chat about our dogs. She said that the two most important things in her life were her dog and her lord and savior, Jesus Christ. I could have said in return that mine are my wife, children, and grandchildren, since in fact there is no Jesus Christ. Rather, I made some inane comment, as one does in smalltalk, such as “That’s nice,” or “Good for you.” The temptation to confront was not actually very strong, yet her not-so veiled proselytizing was indeed irritating.
On the other hand, had she said that her dog and poetry recitals were her favorite things, I might have said that I never cared much for poetry, but I’m sure there’s plenty to enjoy there if one is interested. The difference between challenging poetry and expressing my distaste, and challenging religious beliefs and expressing my disapproval, is that one’s beliefs are intimately connected with self-identity. In effect, I would be saying that I thought she was as fictional as her god. Not a very good start to a pleasant ongoing (albeit sporadic) relationship.
(I think the better way to look at the grandchildren’s pictures analogy would be for you to have responded with photos of children you had kidnapped and murdered.)
Oh, I never show anyone those pictures.
The problem with that analogy, aside from the fact that it’s horrifying, is that it validates the christian position implicitly. If everyone must tread on eggshells around christians to avoid offense, yet they need not reciprocate, the inescapable conclusion is that they have a uniquely privileged view; and if theirs is the only viewpoint deserving of this special treatment, it’s hard not to see that as an explicit endorsement. It’s a small step from that to believing the existence of the privilege proves they must be right – else why would god bless them with it?
Atheism is not a comfortable subject for most people. I have friends and relatives who think they’ve failed me, and are therefore duty bound to save my soul. I’ve learned that people not close to me just don’t need to know. The inevitable attempts to convert me become tiresome in no time.
I’ve had to wear many hats as a sales rep. Not affronting John Q. Public is one of the primary tenets of salesmanship. If your client doesn’t like and trust you, you’re sunk. He/she doesn’t need a rational basis.
Hey, this is way off topic, but fun:
http://img01.xmissymedia.com/galleries/pixmix/20090824_MIX143/xM_21.jpg