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You Are The Worst

Do you ever get to a point in your day where you feel like giving up on the world?  I hit that point pretty early on today.  The kid being perfect for my husband but ignoring every word I had to say didn’t give me the greatest start to my day.  Annoying my husband by having to repeat myself to the child over and over didn’t help either, so I left feeling pretty crummy.  After dropping the boy at daycare, I was almost t-boned by a Mustang who was paying zero attention to the world around him and total attention to whatever was in his hand (I’m assuming a phone, but it was dark).  This happens quite frequently around daycare; people from all directions all either assume they have the right of way over everyone else or simply pay no mind to any car or pedestrian that may be in their path.  If my husband and I weren’t accustomed to it (which we shouldn’t have to be), I suspect we would have been in an accident or two by now.

Head_On_CollisionAfter getting the hell away from that Mustang, I ended up stuck behind a white car that not only insisted on going 25 miles below the speed limit, but insisted on trying to brake check me every 100 feet or so.  When I reached a point in the road where I could pass the car, it swerved over to straddle the middle line, leaving me no room to pass.  Lucky for me, the car turned onto a different road after a few minutes and spared me the annoyance of being stuck for too long.  When I lived in Connecticut, cars that wished to drive slower than the speed limit would always pull over to let cars pass.  It happened less frequently in Georgia, but still enough to keep my hope alive that people do care about others around them.  Now?  I can’t remember ever having this happen unless you count the occasional farmer that pulls his massive equipment off of the road to let cars pass.  No one cares who they slow down and everyone seems to get incredibly offended if you dare try to pass them.

On the flipside, yesterday it was my husband and I that were too slow.  In the morning, we were politely passed by a car that felt we weren’t accelerating quickly enough after passing through a four way stop.  In the afternoon, we were passed by a thoughtless dickhole that was seemingly offended by our decision to go the speed limit on a country road.  The car passed us and quickly cut back in front of our car.  This bugs me to no end.  I can almost excuse it if the person you’re passing is driving like a moron and you want to silently tell them to get it together.  But the car that passed us had no valid reason to be annoyed and no urgency to get back over, as there were no other cars coming.  The guy/girl just wanted to be an ass.  Whoever you are, I hope you end up in a ditch.

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When I arrived at work this morning, I had to change parking spaces because of the moronic way people choose to park in our giant lot.  I then had to weave through security while three middle-aged women with backpacks on wheels decided that they were handicapped in some way, skipped the line, and went through the handicap accessible entrance.  This bugs me just as much as when people steal handicap parking spaces.  The handicap doors and line is not for lazy, entitled people.  It’s for the guy in my building with no arms, the lady with one leg, the people in wheelchairs, and those on crutches.  If the blind guy that works here can go through the regular line, you suitcase toting folk can do so as well.  Fat and/or tired is not a handicap.

The whole abuse of the handicap line definitely bothers me more than it has any right to, but I don’t think it’s okay for people to skip the regular line and breeze through the automatic doors simply because they think that the extra 20lbs on their body gives them the right to do so.  There have been times when the security guard checking badges will tell these people to use the regular line, but for the most part he doesn’t have the time or the patience to do so, so the lazy crowd takes full advantage.  What gets me is the feeling of entitlement that these people have.  Newsflash:  you aren’t entitled to special treatment.  You’re not special.  I’m not special.  Quit acting as if the world owes you something.

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I swear, if not for Twitter and being able to vent here, I would go postal and snap at people in public.  I’m exhausted with the incredibly rude acts I see on a daily basis.  People don’t care anymore about anything that isn’t in their tiny little circle.  I’m not saying I should be important to whoever I happen to be around, but I would appreciate being treated like a human being and not as if I’m a gnat that won’t quit buzzing around their head.  I’d love for people not to block the entry way to the restroom and then act as if I’M the problem for trying to navigate to a stall without having to hug the gross wall as I pass by.  I’d love for my cashier to say “hello” and make eye contact instead of ignoring me completely as they continue a conversation with a fellow coworker about things no one needs to hear said out loud.

I’ve noticed that people seem to think that you either have to kiss everyone’s ass or you have to only look out for yourself.  They see no middle ground.  Unfortunately, that middle ground is where it’s at.  You CAN look out for your best interests and still manage not to be an intolerable asshat to everyone around you.  You CAN take care of yourself and your family without ticking off everyone around you.  Being a dickhole takes the same amount of effort as slapping a smile on your face and holding open a door for the person behind you.  Make an effort.  My sanity depends on it.

 

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About Jamie C. Baker

“Long time no see. I only pray the caliber of your questions has improved.” - Kevin Smith

Posted on January 30, 2014, in Crazy People, Life, Work and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Wow. That is a shit day, for sure. When the planets align like that for me, I start to amuse myself with the notion that if anything went right from this point forward, all that has gone wrong so far wouldn’t be funny anymore. There is a morbid amusement in the curiosity of, “Gee, how bad can this get?”

    Sounds like Pandora time. I type in Jim Gaffigan and let his stand up comic routine force a smile, no matter how grim and determined I am to assflip the next poindexter that messes with my day.

    PIcture Angrywoodchuck with a lampshade on his head, a Jack n’ Coke in his left paw while he bites the driver of the Mustang in his ba***. Now you’ll smile!

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