Do you ever start out doing something nice but then it gets ruined in the end? Like holding a door open for someone, but then when they don’t say thank you or nod or acknowledge in any way that you didn’t let the door slam into their bitchy face, you say “YOU’RE WELCOME” really loudly? I know yesterday I was waxing poetic about love and goodwill, but I’ve found those things can’t instantly erase pet peeves.
For example, I wave to say thank you every single time someone lets me merge. I know that in theory, they have to let me merge anyway (or run me off the road, I suppose), but that doesn’t mean it hurts to be friendly about it. In part, this is because of my news-induced fears of road rage, and I’m trying to make sure my bases are covered just in case. But also, I wasn’t raised in a barn, as pictured here in today’s piece with a small grove of Eucalyptus on the horizon at sunset.
I’m starting to think the phrase “raised in a barn” is more equivalent these days to “raised on the internet” because it’s clear that no courtesy is required there. If you are one of these people so very accustomed to roaming around in anonymity without recourse or consequence for your actions (i.e. the hosebeast who didn’t say thank you about the door), do the world a favor and practice having conversations with real people, in person, where you get to use things like tone of voice and facial expressions (vastly more diverse than emoticons, believe it or not). Perhaps if enough people get back into that habit, you’ll never have to hear the headline “local Sacramento woman impales stranger with paintbrush handle over door altercation” in the news. End rant. Thank you.