Smile When You Say That

Well, it’s happened to me again, and I still don’t understand it. This time, I was in the bakery of my local supermarket, scanning the doughnuts, when suddenly view was cut off by a squat, bald man who had been talking to another woman. I moved aside and continued my sugar selection, when I heard a squat, bald voice say, “Smile. It can’t be all that bad.”

I gave him a steady glare while defensive thoughts raced through my mind. When I couldn’t think of an effective response, I turned on my heels and headed for the door, all thoughts of crullers having vanished. As I walked away, I heard him say to the other woman, “What’s her problem?”

How had I become the heavy in this?

Later I recalled other times similar things had happened to me – not many times, but enough to be annoying and to wonder why it happens at all.

I called my sister and gave her the gory details. “My first reaction was to swat him away like the pesky gnat he was. After all, I was extremely busy. But then his words began to filter through and I started getting really annoyed. Why do strange men think they have a right to accost you in public and order you to change the expression on your face to please them?”

She sighed. “I know. It happens to me too. When he says, ‘It’s not all that bad,’ I feel like telling him I just found out that I’m dying, my house burned down, and my husband ran away with my mother. Why does he think he knows how bad it is for me?”

We tried to examine it from different angles, but no matter which side we held up to the light, nothing seemed to shine through.

“It’s always men,” I said. “I’ve never had a woman say that to me. And I can’t imagine a woman saying it to a man.”

“Maybe they’re trying to flirt,” she suggested.

“Well, they need a better opening line. It’s arrogant and presumptuous to say that.”

Maybe it makes me angry because my dad does that, and with him, I know it runs deeper than just thinking he’s the expression police. One evening while I was visiting him, he ordered me to smile. I told him I didn’t feel like smiling – I had had a hard day. He said, “So did a lot of other people.” I responded, “Well, they don’t have to smile either.”

The look on your face is an expression of your inner feelings, so telling someone to smile is not simply a comment on her expression – it is a reaction to her feelings. On my father’s part, he was essentially saying, “I don’t find your feelings acceptable – change them,” and I resented the fact that I could be so easily dismissed by him.

So, is it some kind of power ploy? It doesn’t feel the same as when someone shows concern because I look down, or when someone’s teasing or being playful. It doesn’t seem caring or friendly at all, although I’m sure the men who do this would disagree. I find it irritating and demeaning, and I don’t know how best to respond to it. You can’t order someone to like you, which is what I felt this man was trying to do.

And remember, I was looking at doughnuts. Why would I be smiling? Drooling maybe, but definitely not smiling, because that would just be weird.

Of course, I could have simply said, “Forgive me, but I’ve been grinning at the produce in Safeway all morning, and my jaw is tired. Maybe next time.”

I would like to get the point across that this behavior is unacceptable to me. That my expression is my own business and I don’t need his approval. But I don’t know if it’s worth the effort to explain this to him. I sincerely doubt he could ever understand. So, a short snappy retort would be best – something that would make him think twice about doing it again.

Perhaps something like: “The expression on my face is not negotiable. What you see is what you get.”

Or: “Well, I don’t like your tie. Go home and change it.”

Or: “I don’t smile on command. Do you?”

Or, more to the point: “Do I know you?”

A Julia Sugarbaker (of Designing Women) response might be in order: “I don’t believe it is your place to decide for me what expression I will wear on my face. If you don’t like the one I’ve got, don’t look.”

Or perhaps a Murphy Brown-ism would hit the spot: “Are you trying to pick me up? ‘Cause if you are, you need a new approach. This one stinks.”

Telling a stranger to smile is intrusive, not to mention manipulative, overbearing and just plain rude. Since it is inevitably a male-to-female behavior, it may even be one more insidious form of sexual harassment (as if there weren’t already enough variations on the theme).

If he’s just flirting, perhaps a smile and a “hello” would do the trick without being offensive.

My sister says, “Yes, there are lots of crushing retorts, but I guess we’ve been raised, or conditioned, to always think of the other person’s feelings, even though they haven’t bothered to consider ours when making such inane remarks.”

And therein lies the rub. I don’t want to cut the poor guy down. After all, he was just trying to connect with me in some strange way. But how to be respectful and kind, and still express my own feelings?

We never got it figured out and probably never will. Maybe I’m overreacting and these men are just misguided souls lacking in social skills. Maybe I should eschew the snappy retort for a sympathetic response.

But just once I’d like to show him my best maniacal grin and say, “Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Published in Playgirl 5/13/1993