Cranky

I ran into a cranky old bitch at Whole Foods today. Normally I avoid Whole Foods on Saturday mornings because it's almost too much white yuppiness to handle. White yuppiness means people who get the really big carts and then start ramming them into each other in some sort of entitlement bumper car game. But I was desperate for some groceries.

Anyway, this old woman, who had one of the produce plastic bag stands right in front of her decided she needed the stand in front of me as I was selecting peaches. So she says "excuse me" really rudely and tries to tear out a bag unsuccessfully. And then acts as if somehow my standing doing my thang is totally killing her. So, I do the nice thing and tear the bag out for her, at which she snatches it from my hand and says "thank you" really sarcastically. At that point the Whole Foods produce guy and I looked at each other and started laughing. "Oh menopause, it makes us all into bitches," I say loudly. I really hope she heard me.

I'm so mature.

BTW - I really hope I never get old in case young people blame my misanthropist tendencies on my hormones. My misanthropy comes strictly from people sucking in general. That's really all.

On the same note, I have decided to stop saying "Sorry" whenever people almost run over me (like with aforementioned oversized grocery carts), or when they can't walk on the right side of the sidewalk, or veer into my path whilst chatting aimlessly on their Motorola razor phones.

The first reason to nix the gratuitous apology is that I don't really mean it. I think I picked this up when I lived in Ireland where people apologize to each other, the air, their Harp, etc. for no apparent reason. I used to think it was super dimunitive until I realized they didn't mean a word of it. Irish "sorry" means "you are in my way so move yo' ass" and that pretty much sums it up for me as well.

The second is that I have little to apologize for anyway. I have spent 29 years perfecting navigational skills that have assured maximum efficiency and politeness. I cede to handicapped people and old ladies (well, as long as they're not of the Whole Foods bitch variety). I stay alert in almost a marine-like manner to my surroundings, who is in them, and the ever-perilous condition of the New Orleans sidewalks. If people can't return the favor, well, my reaction should be more of the "silently annoyed but appearing zen" type than the flustered "I will now apologize for your lameness in learning how to walk."

Screw that.

P.S. I'm not alone.