Didn't Your Parents Teach You....?

Okay, now this line is just plain infuriating.

How often am I confronted with some menopausal so-and-so who deigns to teach me the virtue of manners, opening doors for women, not taking the last choc-chip muffin or knocking over their child for running a zig-zag path in my way?

For starters, I'm an adult. If I do something that you don't approve of, why not call me a jerk? Perhaps it is rude of me to stand in line like everyone else, waiting my turn, and take my pick when service comes round to me. Maybe it's rude of me to open the door for myself and walk away when you are twenty metres away and talking on a mobile phone to Aunt Bessie about your childcare problems. I've got things to do. And why don't you open the door for me once in a while?

Whenever someone asks me if I was ever taught the finer rules of British etiquette, I just want to jab them in the eye with the nearest spork. It's not that they're insulting me, or my parentage, or even that they're just being a total bitch. It's the fact that they're being so condescendingly arrogant about their use of manners to cover for their selfish desire for that last muffin.

My parents did teach me things. Many things. Maybe I thought a lot of it was rubbish. Maybe it was all valuable for life and relationships. I'M NOT USING IT NOW THOUGH. I waited my turn. Wait yours. And then maybe I'll teach my children to be jerks - just like you seem to have. I mean, they have no regard for personal space or respect for people.

Your admonishment might be more genuine if it wasn't accompanied by stomping your feet and huffing as you put your hands on your hips. Quit being so lying and manipulative and I might even share my cake with you.