The Times I Mistook a Mannequin for a Human

Mistaking a mannequin for a human is one of the banes of existence, and there are two painful moments that really stick out like a tack in my butt.

The first was in a foreign country where the social cues, like how locals handle embarrassment, are different than those I’m used to. In the West, we laugh off embarrassing moments because they’re hilarious, but also to make light of the situation as it brings the red-faced individual relief and allows for transmuting negative emotions into positive emotions.

In other countries, embarrassment is also viewed as a negative emotion. Unlike the West however, the antidote to lessening the embarrassment is not to laugh, but to act as though nothing happened, like play it cool rather than play it like fools.

I was elbow deep in a heap of sarongs at a textiles street market in rural Thailand. I stepped back to unfurl one, and kept walking back with my arms outstretched to get a better view of it. I walked into someone, and I whirled around apologizing profusely. I grabbed them to keep them upright because they'd begun to teeter, and it wasn't until my hands closed in on their hollow plastic arms that I realized they were not human.

I stood there positively aghast as the locals went on with their business. To make matters worse, I rolled with it and gave the mannequin an animated apology and a hearty pat on the back. I laughed at what I thought was a hilarious situation, but the locals grew uncomfortable and moved away from me. One of the employees threw me a half-hearted, apologetic smile.

I spend a lot of time healing and doing spiritual work on myself. However, I haven't been able to get over this one other time I mistook a mannequin for a human.

I was wandering around a store picking out clothing while also on my phone. This was when I had social media. Aimlessly scrolling away, I got in the queue for the checkout. I must have stood there for at least 20 minutes, which is a long time to wait for a cashier when there is only one person ahead of you. Are you cringing for me yet?

I was trying to keep from getting agitated, so I continued scrolling through the never-ending feed. Twenty long minutes went by, and I finally decided to pay attention to what was even happening at the counter. Were they being robbed at gunpoint, like seriously. I saw the checkout was free, so I leaned in next to the person in front of me and said,

“Um the check out is available,” and pointed towards the counter with no customers. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I froze. I was not talking to a person, but a hunk of plastic.

I was in a precarious position; I had been lined up behind a mannequin for 20 minutes for goodness sake. I couldn’t just walk around the very non-lifelike thing with the polyethylene wig and go to the cashier. What if they’d seen me hanging around behind the mannequin? They might clue in to my asinine foible, and I couldn’t bear that.

I did the only thing there was to do. I acted like I meant to stand there and do a very important thing on my phone that required all of my focus. I started wandering around and perusing like I wasn’t finished shopping. Years later I made it out of that shop with my final purchases in tow.

I had no one to laugh it off with, so perhaps that is why it still haunts me. I hope putting it out into the world sets me free.

Don't leave me hanging; I want to know about the time you mistook a mannequin for a human.