The last few days have been a mix of being busy, to relaxing, to housework, to whatever else there is that's needed doing. But that fades into the back while I have *gasp* a moan.

I like to think I am a polite, friendly, well-adjusted person. Anyone that needs my seat on a bus gets it, I hold doors open, I let people get in stores or onto buses before me, I say please and thank you - general common-sense things. It was always drummed into me to be nice and polite, and you get back ten fold. I've been sitting near people that have bitched about "My sort of people" either because of my age group, or the fact I am dressed in scruffy clothes, or the fact I have long hair - whatever. And you can usually bet your last penny that the moaner is an old person, using phrases like "in my day" and suchlike.

Over the last few days, we've been in and out of town shopping, and on every single occasion, one of these old people have given me a reason to want to stab someone in the eye. The looks I have gotten from the elderly drives me nuts, and so what best to do than rant off here about it.

To Mr Push-On-To-The-Bus: We were there WAY before you, and at the front of the queue. The young lady struggling with her shopping AND a baby in a pram would rather you had helped her with ONE bag. But no, you decided that as I stepped back to let the poor girl on, you thought it'd be a good idea to squeeze onto the packed bus before her, before us, and then stand in the "Buggies Only" space, while giving HER a dirty look for trying to park there.

To Mrs Bread-Squeezer, and her friend, Ms Roll Squeezer: It's fresh bread, the fifty fresh loaves are fresh, and just because one might be a bit crustier than another does NOT give you and your piss-smelling old bag of a friend the right to grab every single bread product and squeeze it for all it's worth. I'd rather have a crusty loaf that's NOT had your who-knows-where hands all over it, thank you. And your friend putting her dirty finger into the rolls, please, people have to EAT them and not worry how many days ago she washed her hands.

To their relations, Mr and Mrs Fruit-And-Veg-Squeezer: For fecks sake, when you squeeze and BURST a tomato, don't act surprised, don't look around to see if you were busted, and don't say "Clearly they were off", because YOU squeezed it, and thus YOU made it burst. It's a tomato, not a bloody coconut.

To Mrs Drop-The-Jar: Yes, people do drop glass things in supermarkets - it's why they have a cleanup crew. But for the love of all things old and wrinkly, when you smash a jar of Mayo, don't tut and look around, only to wipe your foot with a tissue from your bag - which you dump on the broken glass. Stand near it, warn the couple with their baby that there is glass everywhere and for god sake, TELL a member of staff, don't just carry on with your shopping.

To Mr Stop-Without-Warning: When there are four hundred people shuffling along behind you at your slow-ass pace, then you suddenly decide to stop dead, don't be surprised that the large bloke behind you runs your down with his buggy. He's not a mind reader. Don't then MOAN at the person for not watching where HE is going. You stopped, if you did it in a car, you'd be in the wrong and have to pay up. Next time, he with the buggy might aim for your tendon and drop you where you stand.

I'm not even going to go into the old bastards that push in front of Jo in the pub, the ones the spit and snot and grob their diseased lungs on the floor of the shopping center, the ones that smell like they need to change their incontinence pads, or the ones that tell neighbours to "control your cats", because otherwise I will be here all day.

Yes, there are idiots in my generation that are just as bad, but please, open your eyes, look through your bifocals, and realise that you lot are just as bad, as rude, as dirty and as impolite as the next person.


As you can tell, it's been a relatively stressful few days with every man and his dog in town, but it's not just the old people. I've lost count how many people I've run into with the buggy because they decide to stop dead, and the language you hear coming from some young couples with kids, clearly uninterested that my son and my daughter don't know what those words you're spewing mean.

People in general annoy me, they irritate me and they disgust me. Individuals - those I know, my friends, those I care about - they are all that are important to me, but people en-masse annoy the crap out of me.

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