So, we all know I lose things a lot, and we all know it's because things fall out of my annoyingly small and angled coat pockets... metro cards (last week)... money... other assorted pocket-fare. This fine morning, I was walking along, completely unaware that something had fallen out of my pockets, when one half of a married couple (the husband) in back of me called, "miss, you dropped something!" So I tossed a glance behind my shoulder, figuring I had dropped something of significance or importance again, and realizing it was a candy wrapper. And before my mind was allowed enough time to even process it, wifey-poo was disposing of it for me, while he gave me a disapproving glare and scolded me in an accusatory manner, as if he was a disciplinarian and I was his subordinate; he was some figure of authority, and I, his subject to give commands to. He looked at me with what I'm positive was the most disparaging, contemptuous glare I'd ever seen, and reprimanded: "don't litter around here, it's not nice!" Can you believe the nerve of this guy? Oh, to be given lessons about what is and "isn't nice" by the guy whose contemptuous glare you're on the receiving end of! I was so startled and dumbfounded -- no, sickened -- by his audacity that all I managed to do in response was mumble a weak, apathetic "oh." and promptly turn back around, and keep on walking. I think I gave them a second and a half's worth of my attention, in all, so I guess I shouldn't be all that flustered about it. I was in the process of formulating a statement in my defense, but then I figured since they already convinced themselves I'm some deplorable... member of a lower life form, for "littering", why bother? I was unredeemable to them, anyway, and besides, in the two seconds that I briefly came in verbal contact with them, they had lost enough respect from me that I deemed their respect unworthy of winning. So I continued on my way, confused about what exactly I should have been feeling, split between indignation and bewilderment... either way, they left me so frustrated, unsure of what to make of our misunderstanding.
(Split-)seconds later, I overheard him say to wifey-poo, "no, it's okay, she didn't know," as if to sedate her, so I'm thinking wifey-poo had a fucking hissy-fit, or something. Gee, that's real smart, guy.. turned out he realized that "no, it's okay, she didn't know," but the manner in which he spoke to me very clearly insinuated he was under the impression that I was deliberately throwing things all over the floor, with intention (ill intention, at that) of, y'know, DESTROYING THE EARTH. Which is it, motherfucker?! DECIDE!
Sorry to break it to you, Mr. one-man ettiquette school, but your one-man etiquette school is run by a temperamental, irate ass! CHRIST, this city is overrun with the saddest lot of goddamn hypocrites I've ever had the displeasure of coming in brief social contact with, day-to-day. And apparently, they all get daily injections of pregnancy hormones, or something, because you don't fucking act like that unless pregancy hormones are responsible.