Monosyllabic Pedantry

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

The Golden Rule

I miss common courtesy. I know this topic's been flogged, but, damnit, I'm flogging it again. What the fuck is wrong with people? I'm a big fan of the Golden Rule. It's simple. Even your average troglodyte on the street can figure it out. The following is from just this week!
I'm at the customer counter at Sam's club, waiting patiently behind one person for my turn. Up walks a late 50's woman who stands at the end of the counter. I'm watching her, thinking, Bitch. She's one of those idiots "who only want to ask a quick question.", like I'm there to read War and Peace to the staff. Before the person in front of me is even DONE, the bitch yells to the counter-girl and engages her in whatever her fucking problem was. Kudos to the employee because after listening politely, she grabbed another worker and said, "Britney will be happy to help you." Then turned to help me. This is the sort of thing that will keep me pissed off all day, primarily because I'm too much of a pussy to lay into the bitch with a screaming tirade, like she deserves. I tell myself I'm better than that, to scream at a stupid hag, but then I beat myself up all day for not doing it.
Today, I go to use the atm in front of Publix. A mid 50's woman (I seem to have a problem with this demographic) is fumbling her way through the technological labrynth that is automated banking. Naturally, this nitwit isn't just withdrawing fastcash. No, she's doing a fucking hostile takeover of Bellsouth via the atm. None of this got me worked up. What DID, is that after she finished and got her card back, she stood there reading all of her paperwork without moving the hell out of the way. I can see MYSELF in the bubble mirror. I can see HER in the bubble mirror. Why can't she see ME, pacing back and forth, in the bubble mirror?
I'm getting a sub for lunch at the same Publix. The woman in line in front of me is trying to place her order, but there is a shopping cart directly in front of the sub-counter. The cart has an open soda in it and some sundry items. The woman, finally, says, "I'm going to move this", and pushes the cart just to the side. My order comes up. While I'm placing it, I can see this sheepish woman still ordering (there were two sub makers) and still having to deal with the cart in the way. By now, the voice in my head is saying, "when I'm done with my order, I'm going to move that cart about 50 feet away". Before I'm done with my order, this TRASH-looking couple come over and gets their cart. They were right around the corner of the counter. They could see the same difficulty the woman was having that I saw. They apparently didn't think anything of it. Again, my little voice is just DYING to tear into them and tell them what inconsiderate assholes they are and how do fucktards like them FUNCTION?, YOU COMPLETE FUCKING MORONS!
I guess I have a thing about not screaming at women, because when it's a man acting like a chowderhead, I have no problem explaining the facts of life to him. I guess that's probably best. It still eats me up, though.


I suppose that my treating women differently than men means that I am upholding the Patriarchy, at least according to the man-hating feminist lesbian witch covens.


  • Snide remarks like that have been known to get men tossed into the cauldron with they eyes of newt, just as fair warning.

    By Blogger Aunt B, at 9:01 AM  

  • You know, it is more like an cast-iron hot tub with just little more amphibian parts than normal. But not a bad experience.

    By Anonymous Sarcastro, at 10:55 AM  

  • Sarcastro,

    You've BEEN in the witch's cauldron?
    Oh, that's right, you were married.

    By Blogger Exador, at 1:19 PM  

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