Wednesday, August 25, 2010


Sorry if the title is a little misleading. (I'm in the rant mood today).

I have little tolerance for those who think they are the only person in the world. We've seen this type of behavior in large proportions before--the 70's were called the Me Decade--and we then fell into a deep recession at the beginning of the 80's. Now I'm all about taking care of my wants and needs and living in today's world is much more exciting and full of possibilities than ever before. But c'mon people, watch what the hell you are doing and try to focus on the shit around you.

Why are my panties in such a bunch? I went to a sandwich place at off-peak hours to grab a much needed bite. There were 2 people working behind the counter, a customer sitting at a window seat, a customer standing and waiting for their sandwich and Mr. Oblivion in line in front of me. Now this dude was about my age, about my size and dressed like I was today--shirt and tie, nice slacks and Sunday shoes. (We used to call them church shoes). He proceeds to ask the robot-like employee behind the counter EVERY question about the sandwich he's ordering. Which would be fine by me IF HE JUST READ THE BIG SIGNS IN FRONT OF HIM AND TO HIS RIGHT & LEFT. (In fact, this guy looked like Bill O'Reilly, poor bastard). But this is not what got me juiced up. Mr. Oblivion backed up and bent over to look at the chips--and almost knocked me down if not for putting my hand out and backing up myself. Which would've meant putting my hand on his ass.

I said, "behind you". No response. He then did it AGAIN, this time moving back even MORE. So now I was fighting to keep his big-flat-fat-ass from getting in my face. (Think of a QB under center kind of view). Ten years ago and probably before cancer, I would have kicked him right in his brown-eye. (Hey, I already had said, "right behind you"). But I didn't. I realized where I was at--in a public place, late afternoon and dead-ass tired from three short sleeping nights. So I counted to 10--yeah, that really works--and let it go. Until this post. Thank you, interweb.

Maybe cancer has taught me to be more aware. Maybe it was growing up in LA, gangs bordering 3 sides of my neighborhood. Maybe it was my Mom & Dad teaching me to not be so self-involved and selfish. (Although I've been accused of being self-involved from some former co-workers. Anonymously, of course). Or maybe my age has something to do with this observation. But I do know for sure one thing.

I know I bumped into Mr. Oblivion for a reason.

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