So even though I fully realize that life is not fair, does it necessarily follow that I have to like it?
Is it futile for me to beat my fists against my kitchen walls in fits of despair because someone else acted in their own best interests, thus putting me at a disadvantage? Well, it is most certainly futile since the event probably already occured and the fist-beating is merely delayed reaction. Perhaps I am over-exaggertaing beating the walls up, but hey, what's a story without some flair?
However, was what happened a good thing? Something or someone that should be allowed to continue their jerkish ways just because this happens to be a supposedly free country?
These questions illuminate what is probably one of the biggest differences between myself and Hubba-hubba, ideologically.
Or better yet, let me start from the beginning. That always tends to be helpful.
While on our Legoland adventure Thursday, our little family was exploring the park. Turns out they have this very charming set of interactive fountains in which children are able to direct waterspouts, jump on little pads to activate water jets, etcetera. On one particular feature you could pump the waterspout manually, then direct the jet into a little window, thus setting off a series of events.
Well, Mr. Personality certainly thought so, but a girl a couple of years older got to it first. So, I thought, let's stand behind her and wait our turn. I told Mr. Personality, "We have to wait our turn. We are all sharing the fountain." We waited. And waited. And waited some more. The girl kept going, never even glancing around. Corpulent Dad in the banana yellow polo shirt stood looking at her, taking pictures, never saying a word about perhaps how little spoiled darling should give up her place for a bit and let the little boy behind her have a turn.
My annoyance boiling over, after several exasperated glances at Banana Boy, I finally stated loudly in his direction, "Well, since it seems like we are never going to get our turn, let's go somewhere else." So we did, and we had fun. It didn't cast an entire pall over my day, I was able to move past the incident. Sort of.
After we got home, we discussed the water fountain incident, among other bits of the day. Hubba hubba told me he couldn't believe I actually said something as we were leaving. I told him of course I did. What that man did had been selfish at best, outright rude at worst. Either way, someone should make him aware of his shortcomings. And of course, that person was me.
I am that way a lot of the time. If I see someone doing something wrong, I will point it out. I'm a big believer in peer pressure. I refuse to just look the other way and pretend I don't see it, thus emboldening the person to commit the act another time since nobody seemed to care. I'm talking about things like cutting in line and such. Not horrible transgressions that should land them in the stockade by any means, yet ones which I believe ultimately erode the fabric of our society.
Now how's that for dramatic flair?
Hubba-hubba, on the other hand, is a much more laissez-faire societal participant. If someone does something rude, he writes the person off, but sees absolutely no point in doing anything about it or becoming annoyed. He sees me as someone who wastes my energy on things and people that are not worth it. He is amazed when hours later, I was still annoyed at Banana Boy and his lack of polite behavior, and his seeming inablity to impart polite behavior to his daughter.
I am a self-appointed officer of the Behavior Patrol, and proud of it.
Or a bitch, whichever.