Everyone’s mother raised them wrong, except mine… and I wish she hadn’t bothered.
Let me start out by admitting that I have an anger problem. It’s my go-to emotion. I don’t choose it, it chooses me. I’m a little intense, or as others put it “fucking intimidating,” which I don’t get but … whatever.
So when people aren’t behaving properly, my first response is to get pissed.
A little background…
My Mom spent a good deal of my childhood teaching me to be considerate of others by…
- tugging me aside and telling me not to stand in peoples way
- shushing me when I was loud because it might annoy people
- making me clean up after myself so things would be nice for other people
- correcting my grammar because she didn’t want me to sound like an idiot (she just corrected me and made me repeat phrases correctly…she didn’t mention the idiot thing)
The behavior I see every day speaks volumes of the bad parenting that happened back in the day. [I don’t know about current parents so don’t get all up in my shit. Your kids are still developing and I haven’t seen the result yet.]
Since I commute to my job on BART, a lot of my gripes about humanity are realized there.
- The asshole playing his fucking tinny music out of his phone, or has his music on so loud you can hear it very clearly through his ear buds.
- The skinny bitch sitting next to me on BART and encroaching into my seat. (Ever notice how fat people tend to be more conscious of the amount of space they take up? If I can keep my fat ass in the confines of my seat, this stick-insect moron can too.)
- The woman talking to her friend, or browsing on her cell phone and ignoring her wild-ass child/children’s annoying antics.
- The ass-hat spilling food (you’re not supposed to eat on BART, shithead) or throwing trash on the floor.
- The jerk speaking loudly on his cell phone asking someone “Where you at?” If you’re going to be loud can you at least speak correctly?
- The douche taking up two seats (one for himself and one for his bag) who actually gets pissed when someone else asks to sit down.
- The two girls talking on the other side of the train, using the word “like” overmuch. Do you know how I know that? Because I can hear every damned idiot word they are saying.
- The oblivious toolbags who stand in front of the opening doors instead of getting the hell out of the way when a bunch of people need to alight.
They weren’t raised right. Period. Unfortunately (or perhaps for the best) I’m too much of a chicken-shit to actually confront (read: correct) people. I just end up seething on the inside, throwing dirty looks and calling them all manner of filthy things in my head. So basically, I lose. It’s not healthy. Bad manners may well end up being the death of me.
So the problem isn’t them, it’s me. All I want to do is sit quietly and read a book but I’m too-often being pulled out of my book by someone behaving poorly.
Now if my Mom hadn’t taken so much bother I would probably be on BART obliviously annoying someone else, with completely normal blood pressure.
RANT ENDS (for now)
--And before someone mentions it, yes I curse like a sailor. If I didn’t I would explode. This behavior was not learned from my Mom. It’s all me.