Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Just when I thought seventh graders were bad...

Yesterday I worked at the middle school in Troy. There were no sub plans. Last week of school and I haven't even been given a task to TRY and keep the students on. I found a word search in her filing cabinet, and to my great relief, most of the students attempted it. There were the typical arguments. You give an inch, they take a mile.

After work, I spent some time in my garden and drove up to Saratoga, dodging a possible tornado to go get some road trip supplies with my mom. We went into Wal-Mart, which would be my alma-mater, if that somehow was latin for significant high school / freshman year place of employment.

Walking on the right side, as we have so carefully been taught to do in America, my mother and I found ourselves head to head with a woman pushing a shopping cart. We moved over to the far right, assuming she would do the same, and we would awkwardly bypass one another. However, this was not what happened. The woman with the cart, as though we were invisible or perhaps this was some sort of game, came right at us with her cart. She did not slow down or make any attempt to not run us over. My mom said it felt like she actually was trying to push her cart into us. Having to lean far to the right, and lift up a leg for safety, I shot the woman an incredulous glance.

"This is the EXIT, ladies," she scolded, with a self righteous smirk.

I lost my mind right there. Scraping it off the black corrugated rug, I paused, rotated back in the direction of the woman, pushing her cart into the parking lot. "B*tch!" I said, though she could not hear me. A guy about my age behind us gave us a sympathetic glance and gesture. I talked for about twenty minutes about violently hurting her, or verbally abusing her.

"That was theee RUDEST thing I've experienced ALL DAY! And I subbed at Doyle today, so that's gotta be PRETTY rude!"

My mom told me that I have to let it go. The next time someone does something like that to me, I'll pull it together quick enough to react in a constructive way. I am going to follow whomever and politely inform him or her of why his or her actions are entirely unacceptable. Sort of like when I'm subbing.

Sorry, Mom. I can no longer agree with you that the people in Saratoga are sweet, kind, and polite. I have NEVER had such an experience in the public in Troy.

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