You should apologize

LifeLabs
Toronto, Canada

The elevator doors opened at basement level to reveal a florescent lit hallway and I stepped out right into the short lineup outside the laboratory doors. One by one, we approached an older Brown man in security uniform who made sure we had both our health cards and requisitions on hand before he neatly added our names to the sign in sheet he kept on a small table next to him. I had made it just in time to take up one of the last appointment slots for the day. Still energized from my walk over, I made some small talk with him before taking a seat on the long wooden bench they provided for those waiting to be called in to see the receptionist. I finally heard my name and proceeded inside to submit my information and continue my wait.

Service was observably slow that day, likely the result of the changes they had made to accommodate pandemic guidelines, but the staff, who were all women of Indo-Asian descent, was friendly and attentive. Before long, there were just a handful of us remaining and I saw the security man pack up his station after the last person was allowed into the waiting room and head to the back. His shift had ended.

Although I was deeply absorbed in my phone, music blaring in my ears, I could feel the commotion when it started. I looked up to see an older, well-dressed White woman talking to the security man. She seemed agitated. Once in a while she would address a staff member or one would stop to add something to the conversation. I watched the scene unfold in silence, loud music filled my ears.

When the scene didn’t dissipate as I expected, I grew curious and silenced the noise. That’s when I heard. The White woman was accusing the security man of losing her health card. He was adamant he had returned it to her. Her tone of voice was loud and harsh, her words rude and derogatory. He remained calm in his insistence of his innocence, his voice low and soft. We all watched in silent horror as she berated and hurled insults at him and staff. No one intervened.

After some time he returned to the back to continue closing his shift. The woman’s accusations went on in the waiting room. When our eyes met, I decided to finally speak up.

“And you’re sure it didn’t fall out of your wallet and into your bag?” I offered?

She answered no and rummaged through her purse and wallet to prove it. I started to consider where else she might have put it: in a pocket, inside a book or file, with the receptionist … . She was sure the security man had never given it back to her. I gave up and she returned to her stream of complaints and accusations addressed at anyone who would listen.

It gets a little fuzzy here but I remember her being called into a cubicle for her bloodwork, I remember the security man coming back out into the waiting room now out of uniform, his bag in tow. I remember the two of them meeting again in the waiting room. What I don’t remember and perhaps I never knew is when her health card was found. All I do remember is that somehow her health card had been found, in her bag no less, and news of this was spreading fast in the waiting room. The security man had been publicly exonerated.

The woman however remained defensive although her superior demeanour had been tempered, refusing to wholeheartedly admit that she had been wrong, her behaviour indefensible. As the security man turned to leave I said from where I was seated by the wall observing the chaos:

“You should apologize to him.”

She looked indignant at this suggestion. Silence. And then emboldened, one staff member added, “yes, you should apologize.” Soon a chorus rose up from other observers including staff demanding that she offer an apology to the innocent man she had so verbally and publicly abused.

He looked sheepish as she offered her apology. A simple I’m sorry. He quickly brushed off the whole incident, accepting her apology with grace and compassion. It was clear he was uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving. The action finally dissipated and I was soon called into my own cubicle.

The place was closing down as I left and I couldn’t help but notice the grateful smiles from staff. I felt like a hero. On my way home, I wondered if the woman would have behaved in such an entitled and belligerent manner if the security man and staff had all been White. Since I’ll never know, I called my best friend instead to tell her of my shocking encounter with a Karen and my bravery in the face of it.