From The Storyteller
Sept.3, 2018, Invisible
Maybe 22, blond, 5’10”, and drop dead beautiful. Behind the counter, a handsome, 22 or so, 6’0”, well-built, young man. I am the old guy next in line behind the young woman checking out, and I am invisible to both of them. This beautiful young lady and handsome young man are doing their best to keep their conversation going. With only 10 items, the “paper or plastic” dance lasts far longer than I could imagine.
When she leaves his eyes follow her out, and I still remain invisible. If I had painted my face blue, he would not have noticed. Young love - I hope he got her number.
Actually being invisible isn’t all that hard. I’m invisible standing in the woman’s clothing section as Elaine shops, at least to other woman. We men, who are there, pass with a nod. No words are spoken because we know we are invisible. Another place we become invisible is the crowded doctor’s waiting room. No one makes eye contact until the nurse calls a name. Suddenly, as if by magic, an invisible person responds and goes into the back.
My granddaughter is the drum major for the University of Tulsa Marching Band. Halftime and the football field is filled with musicians playing music as they march intricate drill patterns. Her job, as best I can tell, is to stand at the edge of the field, on a riser, waving her arms. I ask Elaine, “Are any of those musicians looking at her?” Her answer, “When they practice you bet, and when they perform she starts them, after that she becomes invisible.”
Technology makes being invisible easy. Just look up from your Smartphone and count the number of invisible people around you.
Moral: Many things are missed by the eye of the beholder.