A couple of weeks ago, I posted on FB that I was going to attempt to ride 55 miles on my bike in an event. I asked for words of encouragement and prayers. One “friend” worked in several comments on my one post about her going the whole 108 miles. And another tried to sell me a cycling fashion accessory. Oh, and by the way, good luck….
This past weekend, I posted on FB that me and my bike collided with a SUV during another ride. I mentioned my gratitude for the kindness and compassion of the strangers who assisted me. One of the same FB “friends” commented that I would’ve looked good in the crash had I purchased her cycling fashion accessory.
A new employee in my group at work (junior to me) increasingly speaks to me as if I’m the bag girl on an 18th Century cotton plantation. I’ve noticed that her most scathing criticisms are for other black employees (none of whom are junior to her, thank goodness!). I am one conversation away from completely pulling the cotton burrs from her eyes, ears and butt. I’m just sayin….
My landlady, who lives upstairs from me, called yesterday to see how I was doing. Her husband who saw me a few hours after my collision on Saturday told her about it. She explained that she had been busy with her life and she thought I would call her before then and tell her about my ordeal. Since I hadn’t called by Wednesday, she decided to call me. I can’t make this stuff up! I was hit by a car and you’re telling me you were too busy to walk down one flight of stairs just to say “whatever” when you found out? Too busy to pick up the phone and call and say “whatever”? Then she told me to let her know if I needed anything. I later found out a package had been delivered to her house for me the day before, so I called her back and asked her if she could bring it downstairs. Did she? No. Apparently that was too much to ask. One of her questions to me earlier had been “Why didn’t you call me to come get you when you got hit?” I wanted to tell her last night, “The fact that you have always refused to walk down a flight stairs for me is why I didn’t think of calling you when I truly needed help.”
There’s a woman who sells newspapers outside my office building. Last year we realized we attend the same church. Since then, even though I don’t buy the paper, I stop to speak to her when I pass by that corner. It’s been some months since I’ve seen her. Yesterday, I saw her and walked across the way to see how she was doing. She tried to sell me a paper. I told her yet again, that I don’t buy the paper; I was just stopping to say “hi”. She continued that she would have a different paper the next day. Today I saw her and just waved. She held up the “different” paper and shouted that it was selling for a dollar. Now, it crossed my mind, that I could spend a dollar to help her sales. But it also crossed my mind that if someone asks after your well-being the worse response is to try to make a dollar. I’m just saying….
I’m just really peeved by the lack of care people invest in their interactions with other people. No one else matters if they are outside of what’s necessary or convenient for the self-absorbed person’s lifestyle or finances. I can’t say that I’ve learned anything deeply profound from my interactions with these women, except that it’s very unfortunate that my top “jerk stories” involve all female antagonists. Really, what is the world coming to when the emotional intelligence of women erodes?
Today’s lesson: Sometimes people are just jerks. There’s no excuse or explanation for their attitude or behavior. And I accept that I am not obligated to make myself available to be their cutting stone. Perhaps unfortunately, I have felt an increasing need to point out their unpleasantness as it is applied to me. Hopefully, that doesn’t make me into too much of a jerk….