This post is happening because it's 9 pm on what is effectively my Tuesday. That means I've had two days of packing groceries for people and three days left. The good news is that it's been a good week as far as serving entitled brats who are old enough to be my parents. But our store is super busy, with generally 400 to 1000 people walking through the door per hour, having a 1% annoying customers rate is ............ still a lot of people.

Not as much as 1% of roughly 1 million customers, though, which is what Julian Fellowes has to put up with. Which leads to days that go like this -

- Work -

Me: *finishes packing groceries the way 90% of customers like it packed* There you go! Have a nice day!

Customer: *hasn't said boo to me the whole transaction. Now pushes their cart just far enough out of the way for me to hear when they say - in a slightly raised voice* Well, I guess I'm just going to have to repack everything myself because she doesn't know how to pack groceries!

Me: *bites my tongue hard enough to pierce it to keep from turning around and saying that at least I know how to ask for things I want, be it 'please pack this way' or even 'please let me pack my own groceries' rather than being an entitled, microagressive asshat*

- Home -

Me: FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Time to relax! I could sure go in for some fluff. What ya' got for me, Ao3?

Fanfic Writer: Okay, so, here's my story which is what really should have happened in the show that I had to write myself because Julian Fellowes doesn't know how to write a story!

Me: .............or maybe I'll do something fun, like going to clean the toilet.

I don't complain about Julian Fellowes.

I don't complain about what he did or did not do with the show.

I could. There are certainly bits that make me go 'meh' or 'wtf happened there?'

I just don't.

This has lead to, among other things, one time being accused of being 'besties' wtih JF or even being JF in disguise....because script writers have nothing to do but comment on other people's fanfiction. This was no one I talk to on tumblr, but still. It happened.

And why did it happen? Why do I so steadfastly refuse to complain about the upper class, cys, heterosexual white guy who made so many mistakes and poor decision when writing the show I love? The guy who so many people assure me is a homophobic hater of the working class? The guy who ruthlessly robbed my favorite character of the development/relationship/witty dialogue/etc. he deserved?

Because after a day of dealing with shitty, entitled customers, the last thing I want to do is be someone else's shitty, entitled customer!

And no, I don't care that Julian Fellowes lives in England and isn't there to hear me whisper to the person shopping with me "Do you see that? She put the frozen broccoli on top of the ground beef! What is she thinking?"

He will never know if I slap in some two second, no brain cell answer like "She must have never packed groceries a day in her life!" that lets me feel superior rather than applying logic and coming to the conclusion of "Actually, she's worked here long enough to know that most people like their cold stuff packed together and would rather than the frozen broccoli (packaged in two individual bags inside another bag) on top of the ground beef (wrapped in plastic wrap and then placed in a plastic bag) than risk having e coli burgers for dinner!"

I do not care that he won't know I'm defending him because ultimately, it's not even about him. It's about me and the kind of person I want to be, and

I.

Do.

Not.

Want.

To.

Be.

That.

Customer.

So yeah, I look at my "Um, that made no sense?" moments and think of all the practical, non-judgy reasons it might have happened, ranging from 'well, it made sense at first, but the editors cut it' to 'he was on a deadline, fighting writer's block, and then WOOPS! He had bronchitis and couldn't make it pretty by time to film" rather than assigning him motives like "He was trying to make this character look incompetent because he doesn't love them."

If Rob decides he doesn't want to do any more Downton again ever and please kill off Thomas to make sure of it, I will not spend *calculates* Let's see...2012/2013 to 2020...say seven years looking at Lord Fellowes and screaming "HOW COULD YOU STOP CARRYING MY FAVORITE PRODUCT? Don't you know how wonderful it was? Everyone I know agrees hat it was the best thing ever! Everyone! You're losing a lot of money, not carrying it anymore! I should go shop somewhere else in protest!"

I won't, because every job I've ever had is customer service, every job I ever will have is customer service, because every job out there is customer service of some sort of another, and I respect my fellow customer service people, be they nobodies flipping burgers in McDonald’s, or big names writing stories to make my life a little more bearable.

I want to be the person who looks at the imperfections and still feels it more important to say “Thank you for continuing to work during this pandemic” or “Wow, that’s a nice packing job!” and then pushes the cart five feet before moving the eggs to where I like them because HEY! I didn’t say where I liked my eggs!

And maybe I’m over identifying with the man. Maybe the fact that this fandom has really driven home the fact that my former dream job of being a professional writer is just another form of retail is making me more tolerant than I should be. I don’t care, because at least I’m at least trying to think of someone else rather than insisting the world revolves around me and my needs.