My first job, outside of the two days I spent as a busboy, was at a comic book store, where most desirable women dared not venture. The women who did happen to frequent the store were somewhat...overly affectionate, in what I assume was an attempt to counteract their undesirability.
During my nine-hour shifts at the store I was most often working alone, and since it was a specialty shop in a small town, I would often have stretches of up to three hours without a single customer. In the middle of spring, on a particularly slow Monday afternoon, I heard the door swing open and looked up from the counter to see an elderly woman entering the store. Her name was Amelia, as she would soon tell me, and I assumed that she, like most of the elderly customers that came my way, was looking for a gift for her grandson.
She started by pointing out the sunshine outside, saying that it was a shame that I was cooped up indoors. I agreed with her, stating that I would much rather be anywhere other than work, and we had a short chat about how nice it was to see the sunshine coming out after the solid week of rain that we had just experienced.
She continued talking at me for some time while I had my fake smile plastered on my face and continued nodding, every now and then uttering some form of agreement when she would stop to take a breath. I started to drift off into my own world as she continued, wondering when she would get to the point and ask me about what I thought her grandson might be interested in getting as a gift. It came to the point that I almost forgot where I was when I noticed that she had finally stopped talking.
We smiled politely at one another for a moment before I tried to prompt by saying something clever, but all I got out was "So, do..." before she cut me off with something that really threw me for a loop. She asked me for a hug.
I was slightly taken aback and wondered if I had heard her correctly when she repeated herself, "I would really like a hug from you." I spluttered a little, not really sure what to say. It's not that I thought the old woman was going to murder me as soon as I stepped around the counter to hug her, but I'm just not comfortable with people touching me, especially when it's a stranger. "Can I please have a hug?" she asked once more.
I shook my head slowly, trying to be as polite as I possibly could, and told her that I wasn't allowed to step out from behind the counter during business hours, which was a complete lie. She smiled and leaned forward a little, telling me, slightly above a whisper, that she promised not to tell anyone. I apologised, pointing to the store's cameras, joking that the walls had eyes.
"Well, what if I come behind the counter and hug you there?" There was something really off-putting about her smile, and I couldn't help but think back to the story in the newspaper from the previous morning talking about a rash of break-ins that had recently taken place in the area. It didn't help that I had been alone in the store all morning, but the situation was turning into the opening scene of a slasher film. "Would you like if I came behind the counter to hug you there?"
I shook my head emphatically, pointing once more to the cameras, "I'm sorry, but you're really not allowed behind the counter, I would get in a lot of trouble." She grimaced a little, clearly annoyed that she wasn't going to be getting her hug. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
"Just the hug," Amelia replied, striding across the room and taking a seat at the card table. She sat with one ankle crossed over the other, her hands folded together politely in her lap. She must have read the desperate confusion on my face, and let me in on her thought process: "I'll just wait until you're ready, dear." I wondered if she was planning to wait until the end of the day when I was ready to close and hug me then, or if the two of us would just end up staring at one another until I finally cracked and allowed her to hug me just to get her out of the store.
As the situation grew to it's most uncomfortable, with Amelia staring at me from across the room and me running out of things to tidy from behind the counter, the door swung open once more. I turned, hoping that this new customer would somehow save me, and saw my own mother entering the store. She greeted me cheerfully and, because my mother is somewhat of a cliché, she handed me a home-made sack-lunch. In one of our famous Lundy-family moments of telepathy, my mother positioned herself between myself and Amelia's gaze and, in a hushed voice, asked "...what's up with the old woman?" Before I could answer, I noticed that Amelia had come over to the counter, ready to introduce herself to my mother.
"You would be the mother?" she asked, "your son refuses to hug me." My mother's face contorted into a mix of confusion and revulsion, "well I'm his mom and he won't hug me either," she said. Clearly tired of waiting for my arms to wrap around her, Amelia smiled at my mother and said that they should instead just hug each other, and before anyone knew what was happening, my mom found herself being hugged by an elderly stranger.
The embrace lingered for far longer than it should have, and only ended after Amelia pressed her mouth closely to my mother's ear and whispered "...God bless you." Amelia smiled at the two of us and walked out the door, leaving behind her a stunned silence.
After a few moments had passed, my mom turned to me and said "...you owe me." Indeed I did.
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