The way we treat random strangers in the street often speaks volumes about our character. Twice, in three days, I have had to put up with idiots, both male, though they seem almost as often female or other gender, but there is a strong tendency in people to treat others as if they are either invisible or that they are obstacles in their way. There are of course going to be many reasons for this. People are stressed, they work hard and long hours at unforgiving and soul-destroying jobs that they hate in order to pay inflated rent that is still going to eat up at least half their income. Or they have been so poorly socialized that no one exists for them outside of their social media networks, immediate family, or friends (presuming that they have any). Or they are so focussed on their little electronic Precious (smartphone) that being in public and having to put up with random strangers for them is but an unpleasant tradeoff for living in their own little one-dimensional universe.
Not all people are like that, fortunately. I try not to be like that, though I also forget sometimes, and it is a challenge at times, when running to catch a bus or to make it on time to a professional appointment not to feel frustrated with other pedestrians, all of whom seem to be about as aware of their surroundings as a flock of grazing sheep or a herd of cows chewing their cud in the shade. I can get particularly bad if I am ducking into the huge and (in Vancouver) only remaining Indigo bookstore, very conveniently located on the corner of West Broadway and Granville, and only for the sole purpose of using their very convenient washroom. It is especially bad on weekends, and don't get me started about Christmas shopping season. Here I am with a full bladder trying to navigate my way through these herds of idiots wandering around like they have been recently lobotomized as they browse and read and have little chats and conversations among themselves or on their Precious (smartphones). Of course, Indigo is partly to blame for clogging the aisles with so much extra merchandise that it is all the more difficult squeezing around it. It is still kind of them to let me use their washroom and no one ever stops to ask me if I have at least bought a book first. They all feel like obstacles, and I have to redirect the blood flow from my aching bladder back to my brain, if only to consider, oh, these are human beings, and not things in my way. Please handle with care
Yes, I do get it. But we still have to work at it. We still have to try. And for those not interested in making the effort, fear not, darlings, I will do my level best to let you all know when you are being inconsiderate douchebags. I even used that moniker while calling out one young male douchebag who almost toppled me while running across my path, presumably to catch a bus that was already leaving the bay. When I asked him if he could please say excuse me, he ignored me, and when I called him again, wouldn't even look at me so I told him he was a coward and a douchebag, and it just might take a few more assertive people kicking his pathetic young ass before it really starts to sink in. Just yesterday there was a fellow in his forties who knocked against me without saying anything while trying to pass me on the sidewalk where I was walking with a client. I understand that the usual protocol is to say excuse me so the person in front of you can step out of your way. But a lot of people are simply too timid or too self-absorbed for even that little interaction with the dreaded stranger. Or they are busy doing thumb exercises on their Precious (smartphone).
This isn't easy, but part of our way forward is going to have to involve recognizing one another as having value, and living and behaving in a way that vindicates this belief. Even a small courtesy could be a step forward.
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