Alright, so I've told you in the past that I think that the vast majority of people are not worth the air and food it takes to keep them alive. Or maybe I haven't but that's it, that's the way I feel about a lot of people. Probably at least 90% of the human population today. It can go as high as 99.99% depending on when you catch said people.
First of all there's the drag queen. The six foot blonde Mexican that lives next door to me. Its got the whole package, skin tight dress, long blonde hair, nice rack, and a penis...
Then there's the house music (which I didn't know people even listened to anymore). Could've sworn that shit was outlawed along with Kid N' Play in 1996. But apparently this stuff still exists, and drag queens love it. And they like to play it, at insane decibel levels, in the apartment next to mine, until the wee hours of the morning.
So I went over there at 1:30 a.m. I was pissed, I wanted to sleep. I beat on the door like a cop. I assume they looked out and saw that I wasn't a cop and decided not to answer the door. I know for a fact there is no way they didn't hear me at the door, because I damn near unhinged the thing beating on it. I mean I started out just knocking, but between the music and my anger level I couldn't control myself all that long.
Woe is me, no answer. What to do? I know, call the cops...they fix things.
Called the cops, they came, talked to the drag queen, told it to tone the party down. They left, walking right past my door, almost falling over their own feet laughing about the appearance of my neighbor.
It toned it down, for about as long as it took for the parking lot to become bacon free.
Then it went right back up. And the aforementioned series of events was repeated.
With no result, until they finally decided to pack it up at 4:30 a.m. Normally, I don't really care about stuff like this. I'd usually be pretty pissed that I couldn't go to the party. However, tonight I'm tired.
But no consideration. For me, for the other people in the building, the cops, or anyone but themselves. Not an ounce of common courtesy in them. Or anyone else for that matter it seems.
How many times have you seen some punk dude, not hold the door open for an old lady?
How many times have you had to listen to a bunch of teenage girls talking on their cell phones right in the middle of a store at maximum volume?
How many times have you seen someone rush to get to the front of the line at the store and damn near knock everyone else over?
When was the last time someone offered to help you into the house with all your shit from the grocery store?
When was the last time some kid came over and shoveled an old couple's driveway after the first snow of the year? (I didn't volunteer but the mom always made me do this. I ended up shoveling 2 driveways and a block's worth of sidewalk because of her!)
And on and on and on...
I almost lost it once and became a felon when my mother walked into a department store to buy a birthday present for my cousin. My mom's a big lady, no way around it. I love her to death but she's no light weight. And my cousin, at the time anyway, was a 110 pound waif. Not to mention my mom was like 50 at the time and my cousin was maybe 26 or 27. So it was one of those fashionable stores that young chicks like.
So anyway, mom and I walk in. Girl walks right up to my mom and says, "Ma'am, we don't have anything here that would fit you!"
Completely flabbergasted. (Yep, I know that word, of course I'm not quite sure I used it right) my mom and I turned around and left and she had to spend the next 10 or so minutes convincing me not to kick the little bitch's ass. I do believe there are exceptions to the hitting a woman rule. Like when they deserve it!
So where am I going with this? What happened to common courtesy? Why is it that I am still terrified that my mother will jump out from behind a corner and belt me one if I didn't open the door for a woman, regardless of age, to include toddlers.
Please and thank you. As long as they aren't family, its a requirement.
Yes Ma'am, no ma'am, yes sir, no sir. The army beat that one into my skull.
Helping old ladies...that one just comes natural, if I do say so myself.
Knowing that the things I do affect others, and knocking it the fuck off when it affects them negatively. Dear old mom beat that one into me...with a belt.
Without sounding like I am tooting my own horn. I was taught the right way to do things. Apparently, teaching the right way of doing things isn't a real high priority anymore.
However, I do have a solution. (The following is a joke, but it just might work)
Someone once said, "An armed society is a polite society."
Require handguns to be owned and carried by every American citizen old enough to drive.
Make breaches of etiquette punishable.
By the person who was offended.
By allowing them to whip out their weapon and put a bullet in your ass.
You name on kid who wouldn't hold the door for granny if he feared her taking aim at him from behind her coke bottle glasses, with her shaky hands and putting a round right in his ass!
I'm telling you, you can't tell me you wouldn't love the idea of being able to shoot someone dead in the ass for pushing you out of the way on their way to a doorbuster deal on black Friday.
Well, it'll never happen but I can dream, can't I?
But its worth some thought, it could be fun. But until we get there, teach your and everyone else's kids some manners will ya?
I love you Mom...