I hate whole big things.

Once in a while I wish I was the type of person who said something.

You know the type I mean. The people who, when they see someone being an idiot or a jerk, call them on it.

Twice today I wanted to be that person.

The first was on my way to work. I pulled into the parking lot behind a giant SUV. And I sat for about five minutes while the driver tried to back it into a small parking space while talking on her cell phone.

She’d back up and pull forward, back up and pull forward, over and over again. Never getting it just right and never realizing that it might be easier if she put down the phone and tried it with two hands on the steering wheel.

Cars lined up in behind me and she kept backing up and pulling forward.

I wish I had put my own car in park, gotten out and knocked on her window. I wish I had said to her, “Maybe you should get off the phone and park this gas guzzling monstrosity so the rest of us could go about our day.”

But I didn’t. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I sighed. I called her names in my head. And when she finally got parked, I shot her a dirty look as I shot past her.

She was still on the phone and probably didn’t notice.

Then this afternoon I was at the grocery store, in line at the register. The first customer was a little old lady with a week’s worth of groceries. Then there was a woman with three or four items, another woman with a bag of Kaiser rolls then me, with five items. (Yes, they included a bag of potato chips and a bottle of wine. So what?)

A woman got in line behind me. She was clearly unhappy to have to wait for the little old lady to write a check for her purchases.

An employee walked by and she shouted at him. “Can’t you open up the express lane? I have to get to work.”

The boy scurried off and the next thing I know, a manager was inviting the woman to pay at the service counter.

Never mind that there were three people with less than ten items in line in front of her and that we had been waiting longer.

I should have turned around and told her that we all had places to be, that no one is too good to stand in a line for a couple of minutes.

(Unless that line is behind a blockhead trying to back up and SUV while talking on a cell phone, of course.)

I should have asked her what made her so important that she warranted a special lane.

Instead I rolled my eyes, gritted my teeth and stood in my line.

I’m just not outspoken or confrontational enough to call a fool a fool. Or maybe I just don’t want to get into to it.

I would have knocked on that woman’s window if I could have just told her off and gone on my way. But she would have had a response and then I would have said something else and it would have gotten into this whole big thing.

I hate whole big things.

I’m probably better off muttering under by breath and blogging about it later.

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