I was shopping at one of those all-in-one mega stores one day when I noticed a woman walking around with two children, I was with mine as well, and what drew my attention to her was that she was wearing a black shirt with large white letters on the front: five words, three of which were four letters long and began with an “F”—yes, three large F-bombs.
The store was the sort that you cannot leave without showing your receipt and have your items checked against it—because for some reason we are considered guilty until proven innocent: welcome to America.
There were two receipt checker and my kids and I found ourselves being granted the privilege of leaving the store with our purchases as the same time as she and her kids: we in one line, she in the other.
So, I walked over to her and in a perfectly soft and kind manner, not to mention keeping my voice down so as to not make a scene and embarrass her, I said, “You may want to consider the sorts of messages you are displaying” to which she replied, “Oh, like what?”
Well, it was obviously all over with virtually before it began. You know, it was one of those replied that was of an emphasis to the likes of I do declare, I have no clue to what you could possibly be referring—oh my. Well, I decided that a swift slap to the back of her head was not the best course of actions: however well-deserved that would have been, capiche?
So, in the same perfectly soft, kind and quiet manner I said, “Like the one you are displaying on your shirt.” Now, you certainly would expect a reply such as, Thank you ever so much my dear sir indeed, I now recognize the folly of my actions and will muse upon what has brought me to such a place in my life where I even thought that such an action was perfectly acceptable.
But alas, her reply was, “What’s wrong with it?” Well, at that point I could certainly have recommended that a team of specialists be assembled so as to give her the 24-7 care that she obviously and desperately requires.
However, I opted to softly, kindly and quietly reply, “If you don’t know then you need a lot of help” and with that, I turned around, walked a couple of feet to my cart and walked away.
As I did so, she loudly said, “You’re the one that needs help! America is too sensitive.”
Besides being heartbroken for her and also for her children, I thought to myself that she had just committed a few logical fallacies.
Via her emotive reaction she found a way to excuse herself and telling herself that the problem was me. This was obviously a wasted opportunity for her as she could have grown ethically from it but instead, she doubled down in her lack of ethics even more by being even more self-assured of her righteousness and the unrighteousness of anyone, such as myself, who may have a problem with that which she does. You see, her point was that the problem was not her utterly disgusting actions (the very ones she is teaching to her children and displaying to mine) rather, the problem was me.
Thus, within a nanosecond she went from being unethical to actually being a self-appointed martyr for the cause of freedom itself and/or social justice itself or however she “thinks” of such things.
The problem is not her actions rather the problem is that “America is too sensitive.” So, now this was not about her and not about her and me but, by golly, this was about AMERICA as a whole. On that view, she is a self-appointed activist and I represent “The Man” while she represents the freedom to stick it to The Man.
But what was her reaction? Well, it was to react emotionally since she went on the instant attack and thus, she showed herself to be what? Anyone? Anyone? She was being too sensitive.
She too sensitive even whilst claiming that the problem (that she was singlehandedly attempting to remedy) is too much sensitivity. She was also then lashing out “You’re the one that needs help.” Apparently, I need help because I am too sensitive and should follow her lead in doing what? Being too sensitive and going on the retaliatory attack, you’re the problem buddy!
Another very similar instance was being at a fast-food establishment with my family and whilst getting napkins, etc. having a young man walk by me wearing a very similar shirt. In my usual manner I said, “You should not be wearing that here, this is a family restaurant.” Much to his credit, he just stared at me for a few seconds and walked away.
A friend posted on Facebook that he took his little child nephew to the local barbershop only to be greeted with “music” being played therein that was peppered with cuss words. He said, “I hate to be ‘that guy’ but…” Well, I told him of the experience of taking my youngest to a gas station store with me and the same thing happened: the “music” being played included “S” words, “F” words and “N” words. I certainly did not mind being that guy but instantly demanded that it be turned off.
Many have been the times when I find myself with my family at the park, at the playground, at a restaurant, at a children’s soccer game, etc., and have to tell perfect strangers, “Please mind your manners” or “Please mind your language.”
There are very many lessons to be learned from such experiences such as that one reason that many people act that way in public is that no one says anything. Now, many do not say anything because they do likewise and thus, simply do not care. Many because they do not want to be embarrassed, risk a verbal or physical backlash, etc. Yet, surely many because well, they just do not do so for whatever reason (keeping in mind that there is a difference between a reason and an excuse).
Well, I propose that you must speak out and when you do so, you can be as kindly and soft-spoken as they are inconsiderate and loud.
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