Some people just automatically expect others to be incorrigible and ugly, and are taken aback when a little kindness is tossed their way. Funny, I automatically expect the good and that's exactly what I usually get, incredible people who are so worthy to be written about except...except when you witness two selfish, thoughtless, inconsiderate creeps like I did one Sunday — after Mass, no less. They sorta made me want to wrap my rosary beads around their necks and yank! But that's hardly the Christian thing to do, especially after giving thanks for being part of this glorious human race. I'm now rethinking it all.
Why should I flatter those two drips with the publicity that comes along with the printed word? Or am I doing you folks out there a favor by telling you what not to do?
It happened at the grocery store and when I related the incident to my husband, he simply shrugged his shoulders. I don't always like to vent to him because he thinks I overreact, and am driven by my erratic emotions that are fueled by hysterical hormones. I finished with “the change” years ago, just how many overactive hormones could I possibly still have? I related my story and it didn't even faze him.
"That Sunday incident is no big deal," he insisted. "Hardly worth mentioning. I meet jerks like that every day."
"That's because you sometimes emit negative vibes and that's exactly what you get back," I offered.
"Yeah, okay," he so indifferently replied. "But you were talking about them, not me, remember?"
Here's the tale of those two dopes. I was standing in a long line at the checkout and this much older, distinguished looking gentleman was in front of me with only one, one stinkin' box of ice cream suckers. Do you think the long line of people ahead of him even noticed? They should have, because I used a voice with a volume that didn't need a megaphone. Well, I know that crummy couple ahead of him heard, but they just proceeded to load all their millions of groceries onto the conveyor belt and ignored the poor man with that one lone box of ice cream suckers. May their milk become curdled and their meat become all freezer burnt, I thought to myself. I turned to the man with the melting ice cream and said, "I must compliment you, sir, on your patience."
"Well, what are you going to do?" He replied.
"I'd tell you what I would do. I'd politely push my way to the front and ask if I could please pay for my one item."
"Politely and push don't exactly go together, do they?" He asked.
He helped defuse my disgust, but it still irked me that some people don't realize that considerate little acts can set the tone for the whole day. For many years now I've tried to make a difference in this weary world — one quarter at a time. You see, this is a no-frills store and you have to put 25 cents in a cart, but you get it back when you return it. My husband and I never return the cart for the coin, but give it to the next customer so he doesn't have to pay. "Please pass is on," we'll tell them, for a little deed has a ripple effect on everyone.
My husband thinks we're fools, contending that nobody would ever do that for us. You know, the man isn't ALWAYS wrong. One day he went shopping alone and a man handed him a cart and waited with an outstretched hand for his quarter.
"What do you know," my husband embarrassingly uttered, "I don't have a bit of change on me."
"Guess then you're just sh-- out of luck!" and the stingy shopper walked over and offered his cart to another “paying” customer.
Oh, we still give our carts away but now, some would say, maybe with an attitude.