Whoever one is, and wherever one is, one is always in the wrong if one is rude. ~Maurice Baring, English man of letters (poems, novels, essays, war correspondence)
While Mama is otherwise occupied, I thought I’d interrupt my afternoon snoozle for a few thoughts. I know you’ve missed hearing from me!
During the Christmas holidays, Mama and The Kid (AKA Domer) went to the movies — some action flick about a Jedi. And when they came home, they were steamed.
Here’s what I overheard them tell Grandma:
The Kid wanted to arrive at the theater fashionably late (thereby missing all the ads for snacks and getting to choose seats away from the coughing kids), but Mama wanted to get there early (so she could pick from ALL the seats and stake her territory, daring anybody to sit next to her).
My Mama’s like that, you know!
Anyway, The Kid caved, and they got there early. Mama picked the seats (well, sort of. I understand it’s called a compromise).
Have you ever noticed how people seem to gravitate to those already seated? You’d think that, with an empty room, folks would sit as far from each other as possible, but no. They belly right up next to perfect strangers, bringing runny-nosed children, immense tubs of buttered popcorn, and gallon-sized cups of soft drinks.
(If I’d known food was involved, I’d have gone!)
The movie was just about to start when a skinny dude and his whale-sized friend (who wafted cigarettes and body odor in his wake) crossed in front of Mama and The Kid, claiming seats two away from Mama.
That was their first mistake.
The next was when the Whale pulled up his hood and whipped out his cell phone. Every theater tells you to turn those devices off, but Moby-Dick kept scrolling, texting, and pretending he was a Popular Person.
And he’d commandeered his seat plus half the one to his right, dangerously close to Mama’s space.
As the movie progressed, Moby made all kinds of sucking noises on his drink. Swirled the slushee stuff in the bottom, yanked the straw up and down.
Guess he didn’t care that some people wanted to see and hear the Jedis, not his culinary feast.
Or that Mama was ready to punch out his lights.
When he finished guzzling, he traipsed in front of Mama and The Kid again to get a refill, which he brought back with a box of candy to rattle and chomp.
And when Mama and The Kid heard snoring, they glanced around and there was Moby — slumped in his two seats, mouth open, and having a snoozle of his own!
Mama was really furious by this time. Fortunately, the credits started to roll, Moby stirred awake, and The Kid got Mama out of there.
I guess the moral is this:
The test of good manners is to be patient with bad ones. ~Gabirol (Solomon ben Yehuda ibn Gabirol), Jewish poet and philosopher