The Bubble

I was in a clock and watch repair store today getting a watch repaired that was not worth repairing.

The second I walked in, I judged (in that instantaneous moment that evolution has trained us to make snap judgments about other human beings) that the man behind the counter was having a bad day. Or a bad life.

I started off on the wrong foot by presenting him with the service tag for my car repair. "That's not ours," he said brusquely. "Can I give you my name instead?," I asked.

He fetched the unimportant watch from the back and I tried it on. It didn't fit. "It's still a litte too big," I said. "Well you should have told us before I put it together," he snapped. "Why didn't you figure that out before I fixed it?" It wasn't a question. It was a dart.

"The other gentleman sized it for me," I replied weakly.

"My dad, you mean."

"Listen," I said, "I don't really need this watch today. I know you're about to close. I can come back." I really just wanted to leave.

"I'm already fixing it," came the voice from the back room.

I waited by the counter and looked down. Beneath the glass were taped some pieces of paper. Printouts. Things someone had found on the internet. The first one I read was a invective about food stamps and food stamp recipients. The second one was about welfare and the sin of dependency. There were more. I didn't read them.

I wondered about this man's life. What kind of bubble does he live in, where anger and bitterness are cultivated like virtues? Where his small business becomes his pulpit? Where craft and crank mix so thoroughly? I wondered about my own life, how rarely I have any interaction with someone who thinks and talks like this man. I live in a bubble, too.

He brought out the watch. It was still too big. "It's fine," I said. "Thank you."

On the way home, I thought about Mitt Romney's comments about 47% of Americans being dependents. I realized that I might wake up on a Wednesday this November and find that the watch repairman's way of thinking about the world is our nation's dominant ideology. At the very least, it will remain a sizeable minority. I wondered how we got this way. How anger and ideology have walled us off from each other.

There was a reason I went there today. I don't wear watches.

 

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