Heidi Mario is an artist.
BRATTLEBORO-Call this "A Tale of Two Shoe Stores."
There has been a great deal of discussion lately regarding the difficulties and challenges facing the brick-and-mortar retail businesses in our community, whether it be rising rents, the cheapness and convenience of ordering online, or the behavior of people downtown. One has only to observe the empty storefronts to be aware that times are tough for these, our friends and neighbors.
I have felt fortunate to have gotten to know personally many of the proprietors and employees of various retail establishments in the 33 years I have lived in the area. Zephyr Art Supplies, Brown and Roberts, Vermont Artisan Designs, Penelope Wurr - I have been warmly welcomed and thoughtfully assisted in these shops and many more over the years.
My husband, Michael, and I recently visited another local store that we have been more than glad to patronize for more than three decades, The Shoe Tree. Although it does not boast a vast selection, we have always counted on finding well-made, thoughtfully selected products and enjoying knowledgable, friendly service and guidance. This visit was no exception, and I happily selected a new pair of walking shoes.
Michael, however, was in the market for running shoes, and was unable to find something there he was quite satisfied with.
Thus, we headed up Canal Street to the other remaining footwear outlet in town.
As Michael perused the offerings there, trying on several pairs, I wandered the hallway of the mini-mall a bit and after a while sat down on a bench several yards away and around a corner from the entrance to the shoe store.
And then I started to cough.
* * *
I have had a chronic cough for about 26 years now, due to - as far as any of the numerous medical practitioners I have visited in the last quarter century have been able to determine - my multiple allergies.
It manifests itself several times a day, is often rather loud and sustained, and is sometimes painful and exhausting. No cough drop, inhaler, pill, throat lozenge, nor any amount of water, has any ameliorating effect.
Because of this, I rarely attend concerts, movies, plays, or other public entertainment, and when I do dare to, I select a seat where I can easily get up and quietly retreat if the coughing kicks in. I carry a handkerchief at all times, so I can cover my mouth.
Although many people respond with kindness and concern, or at least are unperturbed, I have been subjected at times to dirty looks, people pointedly moving away from me, and even the occasional judgmental, critical remark.
I do not think it unreasonable, especially in this age of Covid, for people to be concerned about communicable diseases. But to live in anxiety about every excursion to a public place and possibly being considered a nuisance and danger to others, is, admittedly, not pleasant.
* * *
As I sat on the bench in the hallway, the cough persisted for perhaps five minutes. In the meantime, several persons walked by, none of whom appeared to be discomfited by it.
Then, a man who I assume is the proprietor or manager of the shoe store appeared, wielding a can of what smelled like Lysol. He began spraying the air animatedly in wide arcs a few feet away from me.
"Go home if you're sick. Go home if you're sick," he muttered.
No one else was nearby.
"I'm not sick," I said, stunned. "It's allergies. I've been doing this for 26 years. It's not contagious."
He grunted something, and then, looking over his shoulder as he plodded back to his store, he snarled, "Just don't come near me."
I got up and entered the store, where my husband had just decided which pair of shoes he wanted and planned to purchase.
"We have to leave now," I said. "We're not buying anything in this place." I briefly explained why.
Michael left the shoes on a bench and, as we exited, the storekeeper, behind his counter, sneered, "Have a nice day."
Needless to say, we will not be darkening the door of that retail establishment ever again.
* * *
I do not write this to elicit pity. I am very mindful that many others have far more to bear and endure, far worse.
I have had to wonder if I were a man, or if my husband or one of my burly sons had been with me, or if there had been others nearby, instead of a meek-appearing, gray-haired older woman sitting in an empty corridor all by herself, I would have been confronted that way.
And it saddens me that, as the number of stores offering essential goods in Brattleboro continues to diminish, there is now one fewer, as far as we are concerned - solely on account of one mean, irrational bully.
So I offer my heartfelt gratitude to the many gracious, kind business owners of our community who have made patronizing them a pleasure these many years.
You are, more than ever, valued and appreciated.
This Voices Viewpoint was submitted to The Commons.
This piece, published in print in the Voices section or as a column in the news sections, represents the opinion of the writer. In the newspaper and on this website, we strive to ensure that opinions are based on fair expression of established fact. In the spirit of transparency and accountability, The Commons is reviewing and developing more precise policies about editing of opinions and our role and our responsibility and standards in fact-checking our own work and the contributions to the newspaper. In the meantime, we heartily encourage civil and productive responses at [email protected].