I was brought up to be genteel and well-behaved. That included never talking back to my parents or any other authority figure, and during my early school years I certainly never talked while the teacher was out of the room. In short, I was a boring goody-goody. I’m embarrassed to say this went on for decades.
As an adult, I’ve always tried to be patient and considerate. My biggest flaw is that I swear like a New York stevedore and my rationale for that is simple. I don’t smoke cigarettes or pot (though lord knows I’ve been invited often enough by my progeny). I don’t drink or take any recreational drugs, and I’ve cut back on the overeating. Swearing is my outlet, so those who know me just have to deal with it, damn it.
That lead to today’s milestone. I got flipped off while I was in line at the bank. Yes, I’ve been flipped off before, but that was by family – either during the heat of battle with hubby, or in good-natured humor. But not by a complete stranger because I pissed her off.
Part of being considerate is keeping your ATM transactions to a minimum while other drivers are waiting behind you. Don’t check your balance, deposit checks, and get out money all at once while ten other cars are behind you, fuming and watching their gas gauge drift down toward the dreaded “E”. When I go to the ATM, I get my money and drive off, period. One minute is my limit. Do I sound like a self-righteous snot?
This morning, I was the fourth car in line at the ATM. A lady in a gold car was at the machine and taking her own sweet time, performing transaction after transaction. Deposit a check, get a receipt. Punch more numbers, get a receipt. Get money, get a receipt. The guy in front of me finally got disgusted and left. (Because I AM so considerate, I had made sure I left plenty of room between my van and his Durango.) In the meantime, three more cars joined the line behind me.
And still gold Toyota lady kept right on. I took a deep breath and muttered, “Oh, come on, bitch.”
I didn’t duck my head. I didn’t cover my mouth. Apparently she saw me in her sideview mirror even though I was two cars back because the next thing I knew, she raised her hand away from the ATM and lifted it high in the air, grandly flying me the bird. She caught my eye in her mirror and I stared her right down. Then I mentally started composing the lecture I would give her if she decided to go all redneck and circle around to confront me.
Nah. Didn’t happen. She finished her tenth transaction, and the rest of us pulled up one at a time, got our money and left like decent human beings.
Oh, well, it's probably a good thing we didn't have that confrontation because she looked like the type who didn't mind participating in an ass-whipping, and then we'd both end up with our pictures in the local newspaper's gallery of weekly mug shots. But I feel liberated anyhow.
The next time I see some little hoochie who is perfectly healthy park in a handicapped spot in front of the Food Lion, I’m taking her on.
