How Rude We All Are! So Rude!

I got off work earlier than expected yesterday, and I didn't really feel like going home, because our apartment is holding on to this paint thinner smell from the Palinode's old tea leaves that sat in the garbage during a recent heat wave. It's not like we generally leave food to rot in our kitchen garbage, but if you cross wet tea leaves with 35°C/95°F for a couple of days, it can get pretty funky pretty fast.

So, I wandered around downtown for a bit, wondering what I should get up to, when I saw these big 40% off signs in one of my favourite clothing stores. Every other time I go in there, I end up getting stuck in a shirt, because most of the clothes are from Europe, and apparently women from Europe have tiny arms, but I braved my way in anyway, because, if there is anything I can't resist, it's a sale price on an off brand clothing sample.

I took the wrong bus, and this is what happened 6

I was perusing a rack of asymmetrical jackets with giant zippers and unfinished hems when this woman who had been loudly proclaiming her opinion up and down every aisle started ranting at the cashier while she paid for some clothing.

Loud Woman: I am always scared to give out my credit card number, even in regular stores like this one.

Cashier: Yeah. There are a lot of crooks out there. You never know.

Loud Woman: Why do you say that?

Cashier: Well, I just thought that you were talking about people stealing your credit card number. Thanks for trusting us with it.

Loud Woman: Don't say that. You shouldn't say that. Now I don't want to trust you. Why would you say that?

Cashier: I was just talking.

Loud Woman: Well, you were just talking. I should walk out of here, but I've been here before, and this other woman here was very nice to me. Not you. You're rude. But this other woman was nice to me.

Cashier: I'm sorry if I sounded rude, ma'am.

Loud Woman: Don't even talk. What you said was rude. You made me not want to trust you. I tell you, I come here and I bring my friend and she spent over five hundred dollars and I spent over three hundred and twenty-six dollars, and I will still come back, because that other woman was nice to us. Not you. You're rude. You're very rude. You shouldn't have said that.

I sneaked a glance up to see what the woman looked like. She had a ridiculous fascinator with a spray of huge feathers pinned to her head in the middle of this ridiculous wedding weave.

There is this freakish hairstyle I have seen around lately where a woman dyes her hair dark and then weaves in these huge, blonde spiral curl pieces. The women who do this look like they're tortured circus bridesmaids, and I felt bad for them at first, because you know that the next step is them having to get into some hideous mint green ensemble with a bolero jacket, but then I saw a couple of them out and about with this hair on several occasions over a couple of months, and I realized that they were doing this to their hair every day ON PURPOSE.

Anyway, the feathers on Loud Woman's fascinator bobbed against her tortured circus bridesmaid hair when she spoke, and I couldn't help it when the feathers made a dramatic and swirling point of You're rude!. I lost control of myself.


I don't normally snort, but I recently acquired a summer cold that makes my sinuses collude with my nostrils to create this snorting sound that comes out when I think something's funny. I have taken to trying to breathe only through my mouth when I am feeling amused, but I must have forgotten to do that this time.

I was mortified. I wanted to crawl into the middle of the clothing rack and hide like I used to when I was a kid, but she had already seen me.

Loud Woman: Are you eavesdropping on me?

Schmutzie: No, no. [pretending to be very interested in a pants hanger]

Loud Woman: You're as rude as this cashier. Ruder! People are so rude. So rude!

I snorted again, although this time much more quietly and into a Turkish sweater with a single button the size of a teacup.

Thankfully, she missed that one.

Loud Woman's transaction ended, and she stomped out of the store while muttering under her breath about how rude! we all were, so rude!

With nutbars like that out there, I'm thinking that it's time to invest in some sinus medication. The manners police does so detest a misplaced snort. Also, I should warn you to stay away from the Turkish sweater with the ginormous button. It might have a little Schmutzie snort on it.

A Crow and Her Mate and I

A Crow and Her Mate and I

Me at MamaPop: It Might Be Love: Lindsay Lohan’s New Thang, Eilat Anschel