Dear Guy Who Sat Next to Me on BART Today,
I am not a large woman. I am a little bulkier than normal because I'm in six layers including my big winter coat, but I didn't even take up my half of the bench seat, I could clearly see a couple inches between my ass and the dividing line down the middle.
You are not a large man. You're normal sized, and yes, in a coat, but for the love of god can you please make yourself aware of your movement radius?
You don't need to nudge me repeatedly with your elbows, you don't need to usurp my space by sitting with your legs in a V so wide that it seems you're attempting to advertise that your man-parts are SO HUGE they need their own zip code in which to chill.
I'm pretty sure they're not big at all, judging from your lack of courtesy and awareness of your own movements and size. So kindly, next time you're on public transport, interacting with other members of society, don't usurp their space when they're clearly not in the mood to be touched by you, accidentally or not, and are intentionally pulling away from you so as to give you more space for your clumsy actions. Don't be that person. The gross touchy one who may or may not intend to touch strangers, but repeatedly does so, ignoring their averse reactions.
Thanks.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
What's YOUR problem?
Wow. I just got back from a brief errand to my local CVS store, and as I was checking out, I happened to overhear a familiar exchange from the next register over.
A large (I mean she was at least six feet tall, large boned, and also heavy, like a linebacker) woman was purchasing a candy bar. Upon being rung up, she exclaimed that the candy bar was "SUPPOSED to be 2 for $3!" Ooh, dear, already in danger of becoming that person, the one who holds up a cashier over a few cents while a long line of customers impatiently looks on.
The clerk politely replied that candy bar had not rung up with that discount price, and that some of the bars were not on that special deal at the current time.
"NO, it's supposed to be THIS candy, the sign is on the BOX RIGHT THERE, JUST LOOK AT IT!" Please keep in mind that this woman was barking very loudly, and other customers were pausing to watch the exchange. I made little secret of my observation, not just surreptitiously glancing over, but when the linebacker lady stepped back to gesture wildly, I admit that I flat out stared at her, wondering if a violent outburst would soon follow.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the poor clerk again said, but was cut off as Angry Linebacker Lady nearly shouted, "ARE YOU BEING RUDE TO ME? HOW DARE YOU TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME!! You know what? NEVERMIND. I don't need to give you my money, I'll just buy it somewhere else!" and she stomped out of the store, leaving all register attendants staring after with their mouths open.
I lean over towards the nice woman bagging my own items and say quietly, "Good riddance to bad rubbish. I'm so sorry you have to deal with people like that."
So, congratulations, crazed candy lady, you have probably affected the day of that clerk in a negative way. I know that you'll be the subject of much dinner conversation tonight at the tables of anyone who witnessed your rude outburst. Please know that while I was too intimidated by your gargantuan size to say something in the moment, that I was very nearly about to, and that your behavior was inexcusable and just disgusting. I hope you tripped on your way to find yourself another candy bar, and that you fell in a pile of Oakland street refuse.
I really need to carry a camera with me to take photos of all these people in the moment.
A large (I mean she was at least six feet tall, large boned, and also heavy, like a linebacker) woman was purchasing a candy bar. Upon being rung up, she exclaimed that the candy bar was "SUPPOSED to be 2 for $3!" Ooh, dear, already in danger of becoming that person, the one who holds up a cashier over a few cents while a long line of customers impatiently looks on.
The clerk politely replied that candy bar had not rung up with that discount price, and that some of the bars were not on that special deal at the current time.
"NO, it's supposed to be THIS candy, the sign is on the BOX RIGHT THERE, JUST LOOK AT IT!" Please keep in mind that this woman was barking very loudly, and other customers were pausing to watch the exchange. I made little secret of my observation, not just surreptitiously glancing over, but when the linebacker lady stepped back to gesture wildly, I admit that I flat out stared at her, wondering if a violent outburst would soon follow.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the poor clerk again said, but was cut off as Angry Linebacker Lady nearly shouted, "ARE YOU BEING RUDE TO ME? HOW DARE YOU TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME!! You know what? NEVERMIND. I don't need to give you my money, I'll just buy it somewhere else!" and she stomped out of the store, leaving all register attendants staring after with their mouths open.
I lean over towards the nice woman bagging my own items and say quietly, "Good riddance to bad rubbish. I'm so sorry you have to deal with people like that."
So, congratulations, crazed candy lady, you have probably affected the day of that clerk in a negative way. I know that you'll be the subject of much dinner conversation tonight at the tables of anyone who witnessed your rude outburst. Please know that while I was too intimidated by your gargantuan size to say something in the moment, that I was very nearly about to, and that your behavior was inexcusable and just disgusting. I hope you tripped on your way to find yourself another candy bar, and that you fell in a pile of Oakland street refuse.
I really need to carry a camera with me to take photos of all these people in the moment.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Oh, the moments are endless.
The other day I was at the gym, cruising along on the elliptical strider as my friend and trainer worked her butt climbing the rotary stair-climber device, when my jaw hit my chest.
Next to my trainer (who is a remarkably tolerant and polite woman who gets along with nearly everyone she meets,) was woman barely breaking a sweat as she moseyed up the snail paced stairs. Already, this moseying creature was in danger of being that person, oh, you know, the one who takes up space on cardio equipment without actually using it for its intended purpose.
My attention was drawn to Miss Mosey only when she waved heartily and enthusiastically at another woman just entering the gym.
Miss Mosey's friend plowed straight towards the climber, and the two proceeded to have a loud (I could hear it through my ipod headphones) conversation about the last time they were at the gym together. Since there was another stair climber available on the OTHER side of my trainer, Miss Mosey's friend lumbered up onto it, started it going at a similar lethargic pace to that of her buddy, and they proceeded to continue their squawking over the top of my trainer, who had courteously lowered her torso to lean a bit on the machine, allowing them a direct overhead visual connection.
I continued my workout, but again I was distracted from my own cardio by the sheer volume, inanity, and utter blatant rudeness of the conversation that continued on either side of my poor trainer. Tolerant though she is, she seemed mildly irked at the situation enveloping her, and she straightened her posture after a time, and I hope that would give her flanking converse rs a HINT to shut the hell up, or get the hell off the equipment they were barely using to begin with.
Instead of fulfilling my hopes, they continued their conversation AROUND my trainer, leaning first forward, then backward to maintain eye contact as their chatter flew around her.
I was nearly dumbfounded. I didn't feel it was my place to stride over, and say in no uncertain terms,
"Excuse me, I hate to interrupt your strenuous workout, but I felt morally obligated to point out your nauseating display of disregard for common decency, and your lack awareness of social niceties. Perhaps you failed to notice that your conversation is not just between you, but rather it is being displayed not only to the room at large, (it's volume being in the outside-voices range abhorred by most preschool teachers,) but it is also disturbing the workout of the woman sandwiched uncomfortably between your inconsiderate asses. I just hope you know that your inconsideration and selfishness is shaming those who raised you. Please enjoy your workout."
I didn't want to be that person. They, however, were both guilty of being horrible examples of that person, the one who purposefully disregards those around them, or worse, use their exhibition of manner-fail to bully someone out of their own physical space. Many other infractions of decorum occur at gyms, but this one stuck with me particularly because I felt that I was powerless to alter it, or even to draw attention to it in the moment in some way. Instead, I hope deeply that these women either chance across writings, and recognize themselves, or I hope they repeat their behavior once more, at a time when I am carrying my camera so I can attribute their actions appropriately and illustrate the situation visually. I also hope others will refrain from being those people.
Next to my trainer (who is a remarkably tolerant and polite woman who gets along with nearly everyone she meets,) was woman barely breaking a sweat as she moseyed up the snail paced stairs. Already, this moseying creature was in danger of being that person, oh, you know, the one who takes up space on cardio equipment without actually using it for its intended purpose.
My attention was drawn to Miss Mosey only when she waved heartily and enthusiastically at another woman just entering the gym.
Miss Mosey's friend plowed straight towards the climber, and the two proceeded to have a loud (I could hear it through my ipod headphones) conversation about the last time they were at the gym together. Since there was another stair climber available on the OTHER side of my trainer, Miss Mosey's friend lumbered up onto it, started it going at a similar lethargic pace to that of her buddy, and they proceeded to continue their squawking over the top of my trainer, who had courteously lowered her torso to lean a bit on the machine, allowing them a direct overhead visual connection.
I continued my workout, but again I was distracted from my own cardio by the sheer volume, inanity, and utter blatant rudeness of the conversation that continued on either side of my poor trainer. Tolerant though she is, she seemed mildly irked at the situation enveloping her, and she straightened her posture after a time, and I hope that would give her flanking converse rs a HINT to shut the hell up, or get the hell off the equipment they were barely using to begin with.
Instead of fulfilling my hopes, they continued their conversation AROUND my trainer, leaning first forward, then backward to maintain eye contact as their chatter flew around her.
I was nearly dumbfounded. I didn't feel it was my place to stride over, and say in no uncertain terms,
"Excuse me, I hate to interrupt your strenuous workout, but I felt morally obligated to point out your nauseating display of disregard for common decency, and your lack awareness of social niceties. Perhaps you failed to notice that your conversation is not just between you, but rather it is being displayed not only to the room at large, (it's volume being in the outside-voices range abhorred by most preschool teachers,) but it is also disturbing the workout of the woman sandwiched uncomfortably between your inconsiderate asses. I just hope you know that your inconsideration and selfishness is shaming those who raised you. Please enjoy your workout."
I didn't want to be that person. They, however, were both guilty of being horrible examples of that person, the one who purposefully disregards those around them, or worse, use their exhibition of manner-fail to bully someone out of their own physical space. Many other infractions of decorum occur at gyms, but this one stuck with me particularly because I felt that I was powerless to alter it, or even to draw attention to it in the moment in some way. Instead, I hope deeply that these women either chance across writings, and recognize themselves, or I hope they repeat their behavior once more, at a time when I am carrying my camera so I can attribute their actions appropriately and illustrate the situation visually. I also hope others will refrain from being those people.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
OMG Mom, don't be THAT person. . .
Sitting in a slick newish restaurant in the up and coming area of Oakland, I peruse the menu with the joy of knowing my lovely mother, sitting opposite me, will pay my sushi bill. We make our selections, and the waitress leaves to input our order. It suddenly occurs to my mother that she'll need a knife and fork, and turns around in her seat to raise her hand to gain the waitress's attention. My eyes widen, and I reach across the table swiftly but hopefully gently, to pull her hand down, and say quietly but with urgency, "Mom, please, don't be that person."
Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, she's a lovely lady and a great person, but I am repeatedly mortified by her actions and habits when we dine out together. I've worked as a waitress, and even as a "busboy" and I remember vividly the things that patrons would do that annoyed the bejeesus out of me. My mother, over time, has been guilty of nearly every little action that would make me cringe or twitch in displeasure.
Snapping her fingers to get attention.
Repeatedly saying that yes, she "gets" the menu and has no questions, then when ordering, asks ALL the questions that could have been explained in a timely manner earlier.
Switching her order as the server walks away, and hollering for them to come back.
Tapping her server when the server's at another table.
Even, god forbid, using the term "garcon" when referring to the waiter when my family was out at dinner in Italy one night.
As I said, she's a wonderful person, but she just does not get that some of the things she is apparently programmed to do in restaurants are beyond gauche, and may or may not result in her food having special seasonings, depending on where she deploys her restaurant tact.
Again, at the end of our otherwise lovely meal, she had the bill in hand, and slid her credit card into the waiting slot. She then turned, and was raising the bill over her head to wave it at the waitress who was not even in eye-shot, and again, I had to ask, "MOM, please, don't do that. Don't be that person."
These things may seem minor, or they may seem like grievous social errors. I'm sure everyone in their day to day life notices these moments. I know I do, and I'm finally fed up enough that I'm going to call attention to it , when I see it.
I hope you'll follow along for the ride.
Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, she's a lovely lady and a great person, but I am repeatedly mortified by her actions and habits when we dine out together. I've worked as a waitress, and even as a "busboy" and I remember vividly the things that patrons would do that annoyed the bejeesus out of me. My mother, over time, has been guilty of nearly every little action that would make me cringe or twitch in displeasure.
Snapping her fingers to get attention.
Repeatedly saying that yes, she "gets" the menu and has no questions, then when ordering, asks ALL the questions that could have been explained in a timely manner earlier.
Switching her order as the server walks away, and hollering for them to come back.
Tapping her server when the server's at another table.
Even, god forbid, using the term "garcon" when referring to the waiter when my family was out at dinner in Italy one night.
As I said, she's a wonderful person, but she just does not get that some of the things she is apparently programmed to do in restaurants are beyond gauche, and may or may not result in her food having special seasonings, depending on where she deploys her restaurant tact.
Again, at the end of our otherwise lovely meal, she had the bill in hand, and slid her credit card into the waiting slot. She then turned, and was raising the bill over her head to wave it at the waitress who was not even in eye-shot, and again, I had to ask, "MOM, please, don't do that. Don't be that person."
These things may seem minor, or they may seem like grievous social errors. I'm sure everyone in their day to day life notices these moments. I know I do, and I'm finally fed up enough that I'm going to call attention to it , when I see it.
I hope you'll follow along for the ride.
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