So some bitch cut me off in traffic today.
TWICE.
And so a hop, skip and a ragefest later, here I am writing about it. Like a buttmad loser.
How hard is it to be nice to people? Yes, even people you don't know. We all know people who are dicks to their friends and family and that's a whole different breed of assholery that I just don't have the time to rant and rave about. But what about those people who are just dicks to those they've never met? I know a lot of people have this, "Well, I don't know them so why should I care?" mentality... but think of how easy it would be TO know that person. By the same granted luck that made it so you've never before crossed paths, that anonymous guy in front of you at the grocery store could be your classmate or your raid leader.
And yet it's perfectly fine to treat them like pond scum, not worthy of even a courtesy wave as you cut them off in traffic. Twice.
What the shit makes you so much better than them? The fact that you happen to be conscious and aware of your own existence and not theirs? Just as easily as they could be your best friend, they could also be you. They have parents and friends and co-workers who steal their lunch from the breakroom when no one's looking. They're driving behind you now so you know they probably passed a driving test, just like you. And you know that they had to wait at the DMV for an ungodly amount of time, also just like you. And now they just got cut off in traffic by some asshole who lacks the common decency to figure out where the fuck he's going before he realizes he needs to get off on the next exit and screw everyone who gets in the way of that. Twice.
Just. Like. You.
Chances are, you've been that asshole before. Don't like it when you're on the receiving end of this little game of, "Let's see how little I can care today about everyone who isn't me," do you?
I'm not saying I'm better than all that, goodness no. I have my moments, especially when I've had a particularly unforgiving day and thus feel the need to be unforgiving to everything that has the great misfortune to exist anywhere within a twenty mile radius of my person. I can openly admit that I have an issue with giving the middle finger to old people while driving. It's a problem.
I've come to find that most people never take kindness to heart. If you run into a particularly sweet person while standing in line at Wal-Mart, someone who strikes up a conversation about... whatever it is people at Wal-Mart talk about... you find yourself thinking, "Wow. What a nice lady/guy." And that's that.
Therein lies the problem. No one follows that thought train with, "Maybe I should be kind to strangers as well. It certainly brightened my day; why not brighten someone else's?" Very few people care about the happiness of others because it doesn't affect them directly. You care about the happiness of your wife because that's a deciding factor in whether or not you get dinner tonight. You're also going to care about your friends' happiness because if you piss them off, you have no one to go see that movie with this Friday. But that middle-aged guy with a beer gut standing next to you at the gas station? Fuck him. What's he ever done for you?
I'm not sure if people think it takes more effort to be nice to people but I can tell you straight up that it does not. In fact, it probably takes more effort to be a dick. Think about it: All those hours you wasted trolling the internet, hacking facebooks and ruining people's lives by uploading their personal information onto public forums (activities which do not benefit you in any way, just by the way) could be spent volunteering at an animal shelter or bringing cake to that lonely lady who lives next door.
Yes it's true that being too nice can lead to being taken advantage of but... I mean, seriously, that's only if you let it happen. There's a good divider between the worlds of Nice and Doormat. I'm certainly not telling you to actively worry about the moods of others, strangers or otherwise, but it really only takes a fraction of brain power to consider them... and that's really all anyone could ask of you. It's not a weakness and it sure as shit ain't rocket science to not actively try to be a douchebag and so I'm still trying to understand why I got cut off in traffic today. Twice.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Closure: I get it... but then I don't get it.
A friend recently came to me with a query. It seemed a pretty standard "duh" sort of question until I reminded myself that not everyone has the great misfortune of living inside my head and, thus, does not over-analyze situations that haven't even been presented. Because I just have that kind of free time.
Perhaps some back story is in order.
A year ago, my friend was seeing a girl and ended up breaking things off due to her inability to be anything other than an insufferable bitch to anyone she had no reason to be nice to. I had once heard a saying that went,
"A person reveals their true nature by the way they treat the people they don't need in life."
As far as I'm concerned, the notion rings true and my friend took it to heart. Like a good boy.
Long story short, he kicks this girl to the curb and cuts all ties with her. Fast forward a year and she shows up out of the blue to make an apology before she leaves to start a life in another state. And I mean the whole spiel; the lengthy and detailed apology, the "you really changed my life" speech, the melodramatic good-bye kiss that even Casablanca would roll its eyes at. This girl had practiced.
So here's my friend, standing like a deer in a headlights because he can't figure out what the hell just occurred. I explained to him that the girl needed closure and she chose to do it in the most soap opera-esque way she could on such short notice. We chuckled at the nonsense of it all and resumed our previous conversation on quantum mechanics.
However, I found myself thinking (this can only end well) about my own past regrets and how I had wronged those who did not deserve it. Yes, the connections had been severed between them and myself but I could still find them if I had tried. Perhaps I lack the flare for drama that girl possessed or maybe I simply didn't care enough (and considering how often I lie awake at night and brood over past transgressions, I'd bet money on the former) but I never went back and made amends.
How necessary is closure? I've certainly done alright without going too far out of my way for it but I wonder if it'd bring me that peace of mind thing that everyone likes to go on about. Apparently it's a good sleeping aid; I don't know.
I'd have to think of a tactful way to do it, too. Should I drive the 6 hours to my hometown, show up at the doorstep of everyone I've made mistakes with and say, "Hey, remember that time I fucked up? My bad." Something tells me I'd get some confused stares and a couple doors slammed in my face. I don't even think my friend completely accepted the aforementioned girl's apology; he seemed more taken aback than forgiving.
I realize that people all make mistakes, whether it's being a dick to others for the sake of doing so or hurting someone when you didn't mean to. Something tells me I never sought forgiveness because I didn't feel I was owed any and would feel presumptuous asking for it. Then again, it might have been worth the effort.
Do they deserve an apology? Yes. But there's that stubborn pride, prodding me in the back of the head again and whispering, "They're just going to laugh at you. Don't bother." I only wish I'd realized sooner that there's something that rings louder in my ears than pride. "Hi, Dani? It's karma. Guess who has jury duty."
Perhaps some back story is in order.
A year ago, my friend was seeing a girl and ended up breaking things off due to her inability to be anything other than an insufferable bitch to anyone she had no reason to be nice to. I had once heard a saying that went,
"A person reveals their true nature by the way they treat the people they don't need in life."
As far as I'm concerned, the notion rings true and my friend took it to heart. Like a good boy.
Long story short, he kicks this girl to the curb and cuts all ties with her. Fast forward a year and she shows up out of the blue to make an apology before she leaves to start a life in another state. And I mean the whole spiel; the lengthy and detailed apology, the "you really changed my life" speech, the melodramatic good-bye kiss that even Casablanca would roll its eyes at. This girl had practiced.
So here's my friend, standing like a deer in a headlights because he can't figure out what the hell just occurred. I explained to him that the girl needed closure and she chose to do it in the most soap opera-esque way she could on such short notice. We chuckled at the nonsense of it all and resumed our previous conversation on quantum mechanics.
However, I found myself thinking (this can only end well) about my own past regrets and how I had wronged those who did not deserve it. Yes, the connections had been severed between them and myself but I could still find them if I had tried. Perhaps I lack the flare for drama that girl possessed or maybe I simply didn't care enough (and considering how often I lie awake at night and brood over past transgressions, I'd bet money on the former) but I never went back and made amends.
How necessary is closure? I've certainly done alright without going too far out of my way for it but I wonder if it'd bring me that peace of mind thing that everyone likes to go on about. Apparently it's a good sleeping aid; I don't know.
I'd have to think of a tactful way to do it, too. Should I drive the 6 hours to my hometown, show up at the doorstep of everyone I've made mistakes with and say, "Hey, remember that time I fucked up? My bad." Something tells me I'd get some confused stares and a couple doors slammed in my face. I don't even think my friend completely accepted the aforementioned girl's apology; he seemed more taken aback than forgiving.
I realize that people all make mistakes, whether it's being a dick to others for the sake of doing so or hurting someone when you didn't mean to. Something tells me I never sought forgiveness because I didn't feel I was owed any and would feel presumptuous asking for it. Then again, it might have been worth the effort.
Do they deserve an apology? Yes. But there's that stubborn pride, prodding me in the back of the head again and whispering, "They're just going to laugh at you. Don't bother." I only wish I'd realized sooner that there's something that rings louder in my ears than pride. "Hi, Dani? It's karma. Guess who has jury duty."
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