#81 Rude-i-bagos

Is it just me or is the world getting ruder? I know I’m getting older. I know I’m getting more cranky. But it seems like back in the day people had a little more common courtesy. They said please and thank you. They didn’t have to be reminded fifty jillion times to turn off their cellphones in the theatre. What I’m talking about is oblivious rudeness. The “the whole world is here just for my benefit” rudeness. The “I’m just drifting through life doing my own thing” rudeness. Or even the “My car’s bigger than yours so you’ll just have to wait” rudeness.
I’ll take the last one first. I’m trying to get out of the parking lot after grocery shopping the other day. And just about when I’m getting to the end of one of the parking aisles, a big truck starts to turn in to the same aisle I haven’t actually reached the end of yet. I say starts to turn in because the guy didn’t actually make it. He had misjudged and started his turn too late. The parking lot aisle seemed to be wide enough. But then again, he was driving an extended-cab long-bed high-suspension monster truck. One of those brobdingnagian behemoths that hulk over ordinary cars like King Kong over Fay Wray. And fit on a city street about as well. Now, I’m willing to accept that he may need this monster to tow a fifty-foot horse trailer or something, but does he really need to pilot it to the store to pick up a couple of six-packs and a bag of chips? Isn’t there some dinghy he can lower from his land yacht to run into the shallows and take on supplies?
But he wasn’t as bad as the lady that got me upset in the first place. This gal was the epitome of indifference to her fellow man. She came walking up with her cart towards me. I had seen this slot next to what turned out to be the driver’s side of her car. Although I had the opportunity to cut in front of her and slide into the slot, I waited courteously and patiently for her. She turned into the empty slot with her cart and her child. And proceeded to park her cart in the middle of the slot and open both her car doors on that side wide. She then slowly unloaded her groceries. I confess I uttered an expletive of exasperation that contained four letters. I then backed up four slots and parked my car. As I walked by she was putting her cart between her car and the one behind her. The cart collection cage was after all, a whole twenty feet away. I tried but failed to catch her eye. She seemed to be in what I can only characterize as a medicated vegetative state. Thank god for small favors. A few minutes later and I might have encountered her on the open road.
America, ya gotta love it.