On friendly warmth in a PC world

The assistant called me ‘Darling’ as I bought a tin of peas.
A lively soul, whose manner was warm and keen to please.
Then from the queue behind me… a voice, dismissive, cold.
‘I wish she’d speak correctly.
It’s time that she was told.’

I turned, as if enquiring, to this man of rigid view.

‘They should not call us darling.
I’m no loved one close to you.’

Oh dear I thought. We’ve got one. The type you can’t forget,
Enamoured of his soap box.
The politically correct.

Back to the check-out lady, while ignoring grumpy bloke.
“You’re cheerful.
Nice to meet you.
I relish friendly folk.
Your easy earthy nature, means beware, you may be prone,
To those whose disposition brings a tendency to moan.”

Then to the presence miserable….
“Do smile, be of good cheer,
You’re soon to find true happiness,
No staff in shops to fear.
The loss of our humanity means future retail space
Will be devoid of friendly people.
Think machines without a face.
Occasionally a statement from some disembodied voice,
To prompt correct procedure.
No character…. No choice.”

He exuded indignation, like waves from every pore.
Then, unable to communicate.
He huffed and left the store.

The lady raised her eyebrows. “Such characters can’t see,
They delight in finding fault at the altar of PC.

Well, I’m happy to be darling to a character whose fun.

For goodness sake,
Choose freedom.
Give quirky ways a role.
Dispense with over management and chatbot mind control.

Embrace life’s little foibles, accept what may appear
It matters when the motive is loving and sincere.