Wednesday, March 9, 2011

You're despicable!!

So I’m wandering the largest LCBO I have ever seen, I’m living the dream, looking for the one bottle of wine they do not carry and wishing there was a Google map to assist me in my search when I notice this guy speaking loudly over his cell phone. So what do I do? At first I just ignore him and judge him as being just another rather rude, uppity, sorry, upper Canadian. (Freudian slip) But after a minute or so I just walk by him and join him in conversation by speaking as loudly as he, “BLAH! BLAH! BLAH!” Translation: shut the f--- up. Oh but I don’t stop there. While the idiot on the phone is still within earshot I say to the customer service clerk, “Get him a room would you?” She just nods and rolls her eyes in agreement.


This man’s behaviour was in my opinion just plain rude. I hate rude. If I want rude, I have been told it can be found on the third floor of Holt Renfrew, which is affectionately referred to as the rude floor, according to Heather Mallick, a Toronto Star journalist. Although she does say, the salespeople get increasingly more polite as you move down floors and by the time you get to the basement their downright exquisite. So the question posed is, has meanness become a way of life?

WikiHow, the how to internet manual, is giving tips on How To Stop Being Mean To People. I have to stop? Ok. I will assume two wrongs don’t make a right so I will try my hand at compassion? YIKES! This may be asking too much of me. I remember grammar school at Holy Cross where we routinely practiced hiding under our desks during the Cuban missile crisis and denounced Kruschev. And like Frank McCourt in Angela’s Ashes, I was brain washed into believing it was better to die for God, for country, for freedom. And yes, like Frank, I routinely questioned my faith. “Seriously Jesus, aside from myself, is there anyone out there who wants me to live? Practice compassion? Take pity on me oh Lord.

Once again I digress. How does one get to Carnegie Hall? Practice, practice, practice. You (meaning me) is understood.


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