The Mike's fishing partner (and a really good friend of ours . . . usually . . .) showed up this last Sunday night. To stay for the week. Not just him, but his teen-aged son. Ayup. Please to be knowing that they live in Porterville. Two-and-a-half-freak'n hours away.
Call me koo-koo-krazy, but wouldn't the average duck either 1) call about a week ahead of time to clear it or 2) at least take 5 minutes somewhere during that 2.5 hour drive to call ahead and clear it.
Y'all know how this story played out, I'm sure. No call until they were a few minutes away.
He shows up, not only with a packed case for him and his kidlet, but gawd-damn pillows to boot. Again, if you have time to put extra pillows in your hooptie, you're thinking about the ending of your journey (our house!) and should take a few minutes to get on the horn and give your "friends" a heads-up. And by "friends" I mean me and The Mike.
Don't get me wrong - we love them to pieces and bits and would never turn them away. Our friend is a pleasure to know and his son is from the same mold.
My only complaint, which starts with them but expands to life in general, is . . . where is the civility any more?
The civility that calls before it shows up?
The civility that uses voice-to-voice instead of text messages?
The civility that says "Thank You" when a food server tops off your beverage.
The civility that makes eye-contact with the person behind the check-out counter.
The civility that hangs up their goddamn cellphone in order to maintain human interaction.
The civility that keeps our middle finger tucked down as we pass the slow driver over in the passing lane.
Really. Just the (used to be) common courtesy we all had instilled in us from our parents.
Maybe I'm turning into that stereotypical old lady that shakes her fist against interlopers on her suburban lawn, and it wouldn't surprise me in the least.
I'm just so damn done with people who don't appreciate other people's boundaries.
Oh, and our friend that showed up Sunday with his kidlet? He's here working for this week (and many more after)and his son J is "off on break" from Monache (yeah, where we just escaped from) and "would it be okay if he (J) hung out here?".
Ain't no way we're saying no. J is a very good egg and we respect him immensely (yeah, I just wrote that I not only just respect a teenage boy, but that I respect him immensely. So. Get. The. Irony.)
Bottom line is, our very good friend dropped his (and his kid's) visit on us Last Effing Minute. When did that behavior become not only passable, but fucking acceptable?
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3 comments:
I say thank you and people look at me funny. It may be my clothes, but, yeah.
TOTALLY!! I thought I was the only young "old lady shaking her fist on the lawn." Seriously folks! Common courtesy is not that hard!
This old lady is standing right next to ya, shaking her fist in air too!!
I keep visitors away by having the kitty litter box in the guest bedroom......I say "you can stay.....but how do you like the smell of fresh cat poo?"
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