Apparently, I'm not the only one. A coworker experienced this situation last week, and it prompted a lively discussion.
Admittedly, I am not a smiley kind of gal. There's far more snark than sunshine in my demeanor, an observation that will surprise no one who knows me.
Having a stranger telling me to smile sends my hackles into overdrive. What am I, a doberman pinscher? "Bark! Sit! Heel! Good dog!"
Perhaps it's that old chestnut of how women need to be pleasant and friendly and try harder to make the boys feel comfortable and not threatened. "Now girls, you have to play nice, or the boys won't like you!"
How many times are men told to smile?
All of this, of course, just deepens my scowl.
Fortunately, at this stage of my life, those who know me would not suggest that I show my pearly whites. I mean, if my mom couldn't get me to smile, it's unlikely the general populace will have better luck.
One year, when I was pissed at my mother, I refused to smile for my school picture. We'd had a fight about my hair. She insisted on pulling it away from my face ("you look so pretty"), I wanted it all one length and around my face. So I protested by sulking in the photo. In hindsight, she was right, of course, as moms generally are. I have a lot of hair and a small face, and it did look better pulled back. Wherever mom is right now, I'm sure she's smirking.
And, if I could have her back right now, I'd smile for her, all she wants.
But anyone else can stuff it. I smile when I feel happy or someone makes me laugh.
Otherwise, I'm gritting my teeth.
And yes, you can tell.
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