How Rude!

I don't claim to be exceptionally well-mannered. I don't hold my pinky finger out when I take a sip from my teacup. But that doesn't mean I'm going to lap my tea from the saucer.

I may not be extremely kind or polite, but aside from PMS days, bad hair days, and quality-review days and my reviewer's just told me that I've made one or several errors, I think I'm a pretty laid-back person. But there are some things which people do that bug the life out of me, makes the veins on my neck stand out and my eyeballs bulge out of their sockets and bring out the Miss Hyde in me.

1. I hate people who stare. Hate them with a passion. I've been moaning all my life about how much I hate these people. I wonder if there's anyone alive who hate these people as vehemently as I do.

People who stare. Not like they admire your hair/shirt/bag/shoes/you OR do-I-know-her-stare. But like they want to put you on a petri dish and push you under the microscope.

'Where did this strange-looking creature come from?' they seem to think as they rudely stare full into your face. 'Maybe if I stare hard enough, I'll unravel her DNA.'

'Check out strange-looking creature's strange-looking hair!' One ugly mug whispered to an even uglier mug, and they both stare and then giggle. And I stare back in all my wrath - making three ugly mugs staring the lives out of each other. And I'd so badly want to bash their heads together and spill whatever matter they have for brains on the pavement and let the crows eat it up. (I know, I may be officially homicidal).

Then there are the painfully self-righteous mothers with oily scalps and yellow fingernails who look you up and down like it would be a sin for them not to give mean stares to mean girls, ..ahem, women with torn jeans or clad in any other piece of fabric that isn't at least several yards long.

'I'm glad you're not my son's girlfriend. I'm glad you're not my daughter-in-law.' She'd evilly think.

'I'm sure glad my boyfriend doesn't have a mom like you. I feel sorry for your daughter-in-law.' I'd think back with an even more evil toss of my hair.

Really. It's just the most annoying thing anyone can do. There are always going to be reasons to stare. I'm going to look at you and want to look closer for some reason or the other sometimes, but that doesn't mean I'm going to. That cluster of zit on your forehead might be a subject that cries out for closer inspection, but I will not because you're human too and staring makes people uncomfortable and it's rude to stare and it's just plain not right to stare at people and..oh you know what I'm trying to say.

In an unfortunate case of a staring-attack, the best thing to do is retaliate. This is not something silently seething about can help. Stare back. With all the intrigue and appalling wonder you can muster - 'Look Ma! A starer!! Wait until I get home and tell my friends I saw a starer. Wow! A living, breathing starer!'

*warning* Starers are not often easily-subdued. In the same way that they seem to think staring at people is okay, they also seem to not mind people staring at them. So be ready to be 'up-stared,' 'out-stared,' or even, 'down-stared.'

And the worst thing is that they're everywhere! Out on the streets, parks, buses, at the movie halls where they'll make you think that the movie is being shown on the outside of your frontal lobe.

If things don't get better, as much as I admire the man, I may have to go against Gandhi's passive resistance policy and start arming myself with wooden prongs and table forks. To poke the offenders in their transgressing eyes with.

Or maybe just learn some Shaolin-style, eye-gouging hand moves.

'Stare at me and you lose an eye.'

Or even better -

'An eye for a stare, buster!'

That kind of retaliation. Not just peacefully staring back.

2. There's a girl I know who thinks she's royalty, I'm tempted to think, because of the way she never acknowledges me when I hold the door open for her. I hate people who never say "Thank you" when you hold the door open for them. No matter how 'door-mansy' I may look, I still am not the doorman.

And if I hold the door open out of courtesy, it would be nice if you don't act like it's because I think I'm your subordinate and that you're so superiorly rich or superiorly beautiful or superiorly intelligent or superiorly talented or superiorly classy or generally superior that I'm doing it. I hold it open because that's what I've always done. (I've been known to hold it open for dogs and rats too. I hold it open for a rotten rat almost every day).

In fact, I don't think I even do it out of being good-mannered, but because it's become a reflex to me now. I walk in, see someone behind me..'Oh no, it's her! Don't hold it open, she's going to ignore you and just walk in and away like you were paid to hold the door open for her' - small voice in my head screams. But I still hold it open. I hold it before I even realise I'm holding it. Kick myself kick myself kick myself. Darn. She did it again.

What makes her think she can just royally glide in and disappear. Because next time instead of just 'holding' the door, I'm going to smash it into that royal head.

***sigh*** Feels so good letting off steam. Now wouldn't it be lovely if my starers and royal door gliders could read this and see the light? And wouldn't it be nice if I could really go and smash that door into her precious crown...