Kendrea wrote a blog post recently that made me smile. She has a hilarious spot-on way of describing things, and her depiction of the rude lady with the cell phone in China House makes me feel like I was there too. You should go read it, here's the link:
OK, welcome back. Don't you think you have seen that woman somewhere too? Blogs are great for getting it all out there when something like that happens.
The reason that I am mentioning it here is that it reminded me of the time that I was the rude lady. Not like that one. No cell phones were involved, and I didn't have bozo hair or leather boots.
This happened several years ago, when I went to the bakery pick up the cake for Jeffrey's baptism party. I still remember that I was in a frantic state of mind. I was sleep deprived from having an infant in the house, plus a toddler, and my in-laws were in town. I was trying to pull together this event with very little time to do it, and back then I was still hung up on having a sparkly clean house and elegant decorations, but due to the timing of the mass we were catering the sit-down dinner ourselves and had many details to attend to. I don't remember exactly but I might have committed the sin of leaving one or both of my children unattended in the car, or parked in the handicapped spot. I burst through the door into the crowded bakery, stomped up to the counter and told the man my name so he could get me my cake. I remember hastily scrawling my name across the receipt and snatching up the cake (as much as a towering 3 tiered cake can be "snatched") and gazing up as I turned around into the face of a woman who was giving me The Look.
Without speaking her face said "I can't believe how impossibly rude you are." I glanced around and only then noticed that I had rushed past an entire line of people patiently waiting their turn at the bakery counter. I was mortified. There was nothing else to do but continue on my way.
I will never forget the experience of being deservingly on the receiving end of the very same facial expression that I use when someone is inconsiderate to me. I must admit that it was effective in causing me to reflect on my behavior, and vow to try to never let myself get into such a state again. The Look is a powerful tool. It also taught me to sometimes temper my Look with a softer tone of forgiveness and understanding, at least when there are little children involved. I've been there and know how it gets. We can never tell by looking at someone what they might be going through that causes their behavior, so I try to recall that day and assign some similar imaginary circumstances to someone when I see them in a frantic state, and I feel less offended by their actions then.
Not that all rude people are so easily forgivable. The way to tell is by the Bozo hair.