21 November 2013

Wherein I was about as rude as I care to get...

I thought I wanted a change from sitting in Starbucks as a place to pretend to work, so I went back to McDonald's. I bought a soft drink, caved into the aroma of fresh fries, and sat at a tiny table near the door. There were larger tables available, and I prefer them, but the lines were long and I didn't want to take up any more space than I felt I was more or less entitled to take.

I wanted to read for a bit while I nommed the fries, before pulling out the laptop to type my afternoon (or an hour or two) away. And as I read, a woman in her 30s, maybe early 40s, sauntered in, and promptly dropped her sunglasses.

The noise of them hitting the flood made me look up, and before I could think, "Hey, she might want to pick those up" she looked at me and said "Pick those up for me."

Not a request, not even the least bit polite. It was an order. Pick them up.

I looked at her again; I'm a good 10-15 years older than she and considerably heavier, but what the hell, technically from my seated position I was closer to the floor. So I shoved my tablet into my backpack--I'm not stupid, I wasn't leaving the table and leaving my tablet and backpack with my laptop just sitting there; I fully intended to keep control of my possessions--and started to get up with the intent of picking up her damned glasses. But that apparently was not the correct action in the Princess's eyes, as she blurted out, "Where are you going? I need you to pick up my sunglasses."

All right, maybe she did need me to. Maybe there's something wrong with her spine and she can't bend over. But ordering me the first time was wrong enough; berating me and presuming I was going to leave was just the thing to do to keep me from picking them up.

"Um, no,"

Her eyes went wide. "Pick.Them.Up."

Now I'm thinking there's something seriously wrong with this person and that everyone's day would go a little better if I picked them up, but instead of asking her why she NEEDED me to, I sneered and told her to frak off.

Except, you know, I didn't say "frak."

I really thought she was going to sling her purse at my head. Instead, she looked to the teenager just behind me and ordered him to pick them up.

And he did.

He got up from his table, picked up her sunglasses, took two steps beyond her, and shoved them into the trashcan.

It occurred to me as I laughed my way out the door and to my car that I might have just been royally punked, but the greater chance is that I just happened to be there when the Princess wandered in, and having a Very Bad Day, she lost all common sense and civility. It happens. I can't imagine taking my Very Bad Day out on anyone in quite that manner, but who knows? I can get unintentionally bitchy at times.

So I went back to Starbucks, where there was a shortish line and lots of people milling about, and where Pete the barista made my drink as I was ordering it, so I didn't have to wait more than 5 seconds to get it, and where one of my favorite tables was open. I even went to the restroom and it was still open when I came back out.

'Course, now it occurs to me that I left my fries sitting on the table at McD's, but I'll survive that disappointment. Though I kind of wish I'd stuck around to see the fallout from the sunglasses being shoved into the very full, post-lunch-rush trash can.

I bet she screamed.