The sound of my bags hitting the side of my body (and the people around me) serve as the soundtrack of my travels. I can already see myself typing furiously on my laptop, sipping my drink, getting things done as I should. Tomorrow I can relax…Saturday, I’ll get a little more done…Sunday I’ll relax a bit more…Monday, I’ll come here again…maybe I’ll even sit in the same seat! I quietly chuckle to myself. The sun’s shining…the sky is blue. It’s going to be a great day, indeed.
Wait.
“Can you watch my stuff? I’ll be right back.” What? You mean…the orange table with its magnificent shine…the comfortable, cushioned seat…the perfectly placed electrical outlet…why aren’t you leaving?!? This table and I…we were obviously made for each other. Alas, my words fall on deaf ears. “Sure,” I say begrudgingly.
I return to my post. Others are scoping out the joint. My heart is beating out of my chest. Why I am so nervous? Oh – through squinted eyes, I look at a couple in the far right. They are standing next to TWO tables. The nerve!
My refreshing beverage now becomes a sudden annoyance. I need to throw it out, but I’m afraid that one false move will cause me to lose this game in this pathetic table race.
I see movement. Off in the distance, I see Enemy #1 making his way over to my intended target. He has no bags, no drink, no jacket….he’s not even here to work! I stuff the plastic cup into my purse, and as it makes a crackling sound, I start to sprint. Well, as much as you can sprint with a backpack, a shoulder bag, a laptop and an open beverage. The melted ice snakes through my purse. I ignore it, of course.
I’m (half) flying through the aisle and do a side-move with the precision of a trained athlete. Everything is flying in different directions. Bags 1-3, arms, legs, hair… People are looking at me in sheer awe….or disbelief…I don’t know the difference. They’ve probably never seen moves like this before, I think. I shout a million “Excuse me’s.” Why, I don’t know. In fact, I don’t understand why saying “excuse me” makes anything better…whether it be an obnoxious burp or flatulence. In any case, Enemy #1 gives his accomplice a signal. I turn around in slow motion…as I look back….
It’s too late. Enemy #1 has already staked his claim at the table that could’ve been mine. All mine. Enemy #2 gives a thumbs-up. Lame. Who even does that anymore, I think….angrily.
A woman in an official-looking trench coat whizzes by me, knocking my bag to the floor. No apology. I want to give her the finger, but I think that’s only cool when you’re driving.
I’m raising the white flag. It’s only been twenty minutes, but my feet are aching, my bags slipping off of my shoulders, and there’s a broken, plastic and leaky cup in one of them. I begin to leave when the most magical voice I’ve ever heard rises up and over the rapid chatter of those around me:
Calm as ever, I reply, “Sure.” My bags drop to the floor in relief. As I look around eagerly, I wonder if anyone else notices my accomplishment. Smiling from ear to ear, I give myself a mental high-five.
How To Be a Jerk
21 AugNot obeying traffic laws/street signs: In the similar tune of jaywalking – what is it with some drivers…and bicyclists?? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen someone in a car or bike arrogantly sail through a red light like it’s nobody’s business. Guess what – unless your mode of transportation has some sort of invisible forcefield, you’re putting yourself (and others) in danger. Ditto for not using your signal and wearing all black at night while on a bike. Take a sec and turn around – this shaking middle finger is all yours, you jerk!
Talking over someone in a conversation/Changing the subject: Someone is talking about drama at work and is obviously very upset. They need to vent to you and/or a group of friends. Somewhere in between “That crazy b*tch!” and “Eff that!” you decide to loudly chime in – about the latest political scandal – or worse – your wonderful colleagues and how lucky you are to have the best boss ever. Do yourself a favor: Look in the mirror and tell that story – because you should spend time with like-minded jerks like yourself.
Not leaving your waiter a tip: Yes, the waiter smirked a little when he/she took your order. Yes, you didn’t know tonight’s specials. Yes, you waited almost 30 minutes for your food. All justifiable reasons to be miffed. But does that mean you shouldn’t leave a tip at the end of a meal that you fully consumed? Pause for a second: Imagine what a waiter goes through on daily basis – working for less than desirable wage, while maintaining a perfect smile throughout your complicated burger order. Oh, and having an amazing memory to boot after barely making it through a 12-hour shift. Remember that for the most part, waiters do not control the kitchen staff and vice versa. I wholeheartedly agree that there are some reasons when you shouldn’t – maybe your waiter told a racist joke that went too far or yelled at your kid (perhaps while being racist). Unless your reasons are super extreme, I think not leaving a tip is a jerk move. (P.S. – I wouldn’t show up to this restaurant again if I were you…just sayin’…)
I’m sure tons more can be added here…
Now, I’m definitely not perfect, but I do think a little consideration goes a long, long way. You may want to try it next time you’re contemplating entering the realm of jerkdom.
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Tags: advice, changing the subject, conversations, cutting in line, etiquette, humor, jaywalking, jerks, parking, pushing, street signs, tips, traffic laws