Today, Pranksters, I bring you a post done by my friend Angie from A Whole Lot of Nothing. She’s my Co-Captain for Aunt Becky’s Family Reunion and my BFF OMG FB BBQ! She’s fabulous and sassafrastastic and also my sister, because I got adopted by her family, which, HI AWESOME.
(also, if you want to vote, blah, blah, it’s ALMOST over, and I’m sucking at asking people to vote this year, which, whatever. It’s all good.)
I expect a modicum of decorum from people. Not much. Just a smidge. A minor amount of consideration for the people around, sharing the same toxic air.
I know that sometimes I may not realize that I’ve cut someone off, or that I’ve accidentally stepped on a kid’s toe, or I’ve maybe, possibly amped up my walking pace to slyly beat you in the restaurant door to get my name on the wait-list ahead of you.
But when I realize the minor damage I’ve done, I always apologize and try to make my karma right.
Then again, I’m normal.
Some people, are douchebags.
Like this guy. This guy, to whom I wrote a blog letter back in 2008:
Excuse me, sir, but when you cut in front of me to open the door to sneak your nasty ass inside of the bookstore, while I have two young girls, then DON’T EVEN FACKING BOTHER TO HOLD THE DOOR OPEN, you, sir, are an ass.
This may not seem like a big thing, the whole holding-the-door-open-for-the-lady-and-her-children. But it is.
I’m a Feminist. I’m even a member of NOW or I was until I forgot to pay for my dues for this year. Don’t worry; I’m not the bra-burning, death to Whitey, cut-off-your-nuts Feminist-type yet.
I want to be considered an equal when being considered for a job or picked for the team. I believe anything you can do, I can do better or equal.
But at the same time, I want to be able to cry to get out of a speeding ticket, I want the seat you’re sitting in if there are none left, and I want you to HOLD THE DURN DOOR OPEN FOR ME AND MY GIRLS.
So, Mr. Oblivious, can you please take your dirty shoes off of Sir Chivalry’s balls, and hold the door open for me?
Love & kisses,