Day 326: Screw You, I am too Nice!

For all my bitchiness, I consider myself to be quite a kind person. I hold doors for people, let cars in, volunteer, donate to charity, help old ladies in the grocery and even smile at babies. I realize that not everyone has seen my best side, shout of apology out to Jane from Target and pretty much everyone who encountered me from the ages of 19-32, but it is there. I may not smile at everyone I meet or tell people to have a “blessed day,” but I believe true kindness can be measured in actions. Unfortunately, the same is not true for everyone and it shows.

How difficult is it for a person to give a wave of thanks after I’ve let their car in in traffic? I’ve done all the hard work, I’m doing them the damn favor, all I want is a nod, smile, or wave of acknowledgment. Or what about when I hold the door open and people just walk through like I’m the doorman? For that matter, even if it is my job, they should still say thank you. People are rude little bastards and it’s annoying. I get all this grief for being a bitch and yet I’m the one stopping to help some poor woman carrying her baby in a stroller down the subway stairs, while I am in heels and businessmen in flat shoes and likely more muscle mass are rushing by.

There is a part of me that misses the hat tipping and manners ever-present in old black and white films, but I also understand the overall implications of such a world. If we were all nice all the time, then I wouldn’t get to tell a cabby who almost runs me over to go “blank” himself. Bad moods would be unforgivable and no one would ever have a case of the Mondays. We’d be nice all the time, but that shit is just exhausting. I’m a realist, I know that’s not what I want, but I think there is a happy medium.

For instance, I would never suggest you actually aim for the hole in the toilet seat when you are drunkenly hovering above it, but maybe you could take a moment to wipe up your own damn urine from the seat. I’m sure many people who go into a stall with a urine-misted commode simply hover, add their own lady sprinkles and walk away. Not me. No, I actually wipe up the other person’s mess and also clean up my own before furiously scrubbing my hands. Why do I do this? Well, part is embarrassment. I certainly do not want the next person entering to think I did all that and the other is genuine concern for whatever poor girl has to clean those restrooms. I don’t even like cleaning my own bath at home, can you imagine if your job were to clean other people’s messes all day? So yes, I‘ll wipe up your spray, but I don’t like it and I shouldn’t have to.

Maybe people would prefer if I took some of the energy I use towards passing out change to every vagrant I come across or picking up other people’s paper towels they just couldn’t seem to get in the trash can and use it for more smiles and “blessed” days, but that’s not going to happen. We are all both bitchy and kind in our own ways. I just happen to believe that my kindness makes a bigger impact than your fake smile. If you don’t like it, bite me.