I thought that at my age, I was done with being at the receiving end of bullying. Three women in their 20s and 30s whisper about me and make faces at each other directed toward me, but if I acknowledge that I saw the communication, they act innocent.
I remember a particular inane incident where I coughed, or more like hacked from my allergies, in the middle of a conversation for something professional related, and they laughed at me because my phone etiquette was non-existent at that moment. I found it to be annoying and insulting that they expect me to walk on their eggshells to not get the looks.
I could get more specific about the details of this situation. But the point is that I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried being nice to them, asking them about their weekends or telling them I like their hair or clothes. I’ve tried to ignore them. And I’ve tried making snarky comments that acknowledge I know what is happening.
I had been bullied here and there as a junior high and high school student and at a couple of my jobs by incompetent co-workers.
But I was younger. And I knew that kind of stuff happened.
Now, I am, or at least was, under the impression that I’ve outgrown what is supposed to be in the halls of high school. I guess I’m wrong.
Bullying happens anywhere, anytime, to anyone. You just never know. It doesn’t matter if you try to be professional and kind, you will run across people who don’t believe in the Golden Rule.