I am writing this because I think I was the cause of some low-level tension between you and me, and I want to give an explanation. I was not at all trying to flirt with you. One-hundred percent, hands down, that is the first and last thing I want to impress upon you. See, I am afflicted with “American friendliness.” I have tried to work on it for several years, but having recently traveled to a fantastic place where this friendliness served me so incredibly well, it boomed full force before I had a chance to modulate it. So here I am, writing my apologies for saying “Hello!” when I went to pay for my groceries.

To be fair, you have been my cashier at this particular location the most number of times, and we have hardly exchanged a handful of words combined. Still, having been away for so long, I suspected I would get a look of surprise when you saw me. And I was right! You did a double-take when you spotted me at the end of the line, but now, I have no idea why. When I stepped up to pay for my stuff and said a bright and cheery, “Hello!”, you looked a bit panicky. Your eyes bolted straight to your cash machine, and they did not look up, except maybe when you handed me the receipt. Was that a smile, or a nervous reflex? I don’t really remember.

All the other cashiers are warm and friendly, but not you. You have drawn the line at a different place. I know too little to judge, so I am going to assume this is Nordic stoicism and not hostility. Unfortunately, you are almost always my cashier, and I think we are stuck with each other until something changes. Who knows, I might just come through the line with a name tag of my own.

Sincerely,

Apparently some random stranger

(the name was changed)