Sunday, January 14, 2007

think of me as a foul-mouthed miss manners

It's about inconvenience. All those people who are willing to trade their inconvenience for yours without consulting you.

You're driving to work down a busy street with dozens of other auto-clad worker bees. The person in front of you decides to stop and pick up a friend. But pulling off the road into a parking lot right next to him would be a bother. So you and 8 of your fellow travelers get to queue up behind Mr. Spontaneity while his erstwhile passenger figures out how the door latch works. All the while Dick the Driver is holding up his hand to say, "Just a minute, hope you don't mind, my schedule is so much more important than yours. Oops, there goes the green light!"

You're doing your weekly shopping. It's not the highlight of your week so you've set your list up to snake through the gleaming barely-maneuverable-mega-grocery store as efficiently as possible. Every third row, however, some self-absorbed shopper with a cell phone growing out of their ear stops mid-aisle to gaze stupidly at the dazzling product array. No one can pass in either direction.

All I'm saying is just open your eyes and the
get the fuck out of my way. Move over. Pull over. You are not the goddamn center of the universe. Get the fuck out of the way.

2 comments:

Barry Baxter said...

I think there's very little chance your syndication deal will be renewed now, Missy!

The grocery store thing just happened to me and Tal a couple of hours ago while laying in provisions for the The Great Ice Storm of Ought Seven. Except it was an old woman, no cell phone, mesmerized by the dazzling array of bathroom tissue. Had I read your blog before hand, I would have told her to get the fuck out of my way.

Texas2Tennessee said...

...and be quick about it! I feel your pain.