Friday evening I went to the new Target to get some of my shopping out of the way. (Morgantown is apparently attempting to become the shopping mecca of West Virginia, with shopping centers open or planned for each of our five Interstate exits.)

As I was pushing my cart to towards the back of the store, I heard and odd sound, and then heard it again. It took me a moment to realize the sound was someone calling, “Mom!” and that the call was coming from an eleven or twelve year old girl walking down the aisle towards me. After another moment to realize that a woman who was most likely her mother was walking beside her, helping her push the cart. The I realized that the girl was walking rather oddly.

I panicked and immediately jerked my eyes down to my empty cart. The girl seemed to be blind and deaf. And I had been STARING at her.

Don’t stare at people, it’s rude.

I didn’t meant to stare. I was just trying to figure out what was going on.

But then again… I’ve heard those who are visibly different complain that people won’t look at them—will walk by as if they aren’t there.

So.

Now I desperately wanted to escape—to duck down an aisle, except that I was in the clothing section, and even more embarrassing than getting caught staring, is getting caught looking at cropped tops and short shorts. (I’d never be able to explain that one.)

So I walk past staring blankly at my empty cart, wracked with guilt, feeling like a jerk, all because I don’t know what they hell I’m supposed to do.

I considered what I normally do when I’m out in public: I watch people. I love to watch people. All the body shapes and hair styles and clothing disasters. It’s free entertainment. I watch people and then when they get closer or look as if they might look my way, I glance away at someone or something else. (Because eye contact means I might actually have to talk to someone.)

No help there.

So I still don’t know I’m supposed to do in these situations.

No wonder I don’t go out in public very often.