Tis the Season to be Cruel: Navigating the Negative Energy of Mean-Spirited People During Christmas
(This article was originally published December 17, 2022, in the Southern Spice section of Times-Georgian.)
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An ordinary Thursday night in the Christmas season with no parties, concerts, or other obligations equaled my only chance for some self-care. A glorious evening of tinted brows, nail care, and Ulta shopping was on my horizon.
I arrived at my brow studio and noticed two ladies ahead of me. Both were seated in the waiting area, maybe a mother and daughter or an aunt and niece. They had perfectly groomed, if perhaps overblown, brows and lashes. Despite the “No Cellphone” signs posted everywhere, they were both talking loudly on speakerphone with, undoubtedly, a very important someone.
Sigh. ‘Tis the Season.
The lovely young woman who typically does my brows came out and informed the mom that it was her turn.
“Um, no. I don’t want you. You can take her.” With this statement, she nodded in my direction.
Clearly, “her” was me, so I went back and started getting the works.
The next aesthetician came out and questioned the lady. “Have you been helped?”
“I’m next. I didn’t want her.” Some more confusion ensued. “I said, I’m next. I just didn’t want her. That last one.”
Okay. The exchange was loud enough that my gal was definitely hearing what was going on, and I felt really bad for her.
Maybe, just maybe, the mom-daughter duo was here to get those crazy brows toned down. Maybe the girl she didn’t want was responsible for the procession of caterpillars parading across their otherwise pretty faces. I chalked her rudeness up to a previous bad experience and gave it no more thought.
Stop number two on my tour of self-care was the nail salon. Imagine my surprise when I walked in and “Karen” and “Karen Junior” were already there!
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The nice older lady who works on my nails was giving “Karen” a pedicure; oversized brows and fringey lashes were still the focal point of her face, so clearly they were all intentional. Arielle was completely silent, a direct contrast to her typical bubbly self who always talks about work and weather and wants to upsell me the most expensive pedicure.
Thirty seconds after my arrival, everything was revealed.
“Can you file them square? Square. Square. File them square.” Her face remained a cold, expressionless mask as she talked to Arielle in a loud voice, as if she were an animal. The flat affect she maintained while she spoke to the nail technician made me heartsick.
“I’m going to have to come back tomorrow. And I’m not paying for this pedicure if it doesn’t come out right. How much is it going to be?”
They all went up to the register together. Of course, the manager was summoned after Karen refused to pay the $37 for the pedicure.
Sigh. I never even made it to Ulta. The whole exchange did me in.
It’s the holiday season and our neighbors are walking around with their artfully crafted masks, hiding their own personal struggles. Even the Karens of the world face troubles we can’t imagine. People we work with and eat lunch with are carrying sickness and grief that threaten to cripple them at any moment. Too many of our neighbors are unhoused and have food insecurity. And on the other side of the world, Ukraine is being bombed and destroyed by Russian troops and warmongers.
And yet. Some of our neighbors have time and energy to purposefully bring others down.
While we’re in the midst of this holy season, and many of us are searching for spiritual enlightenment and connection, perhaps the best thing we can do is strive for is compassion. No, make that Compassion with a capital C, a guiding force that supersedes our arrogance, personal grudges, and deep-seated prejudices. After all, ‘tis the season.
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