February 21, 2009

• Entitlement
  

  There was probably a time I felt entitled, owed, just and justified. It was probably when I was much younger because I hear younger people say things like, I didn't ask to be born. From my current perspective the jury is still out on that one. Perhaps we all asked to be born and then promptly forgot about the request. That would explain a great deal. Interesting but not the point. To be accurate, when I do feel entitled I remind myself what a crock of crap that whole mental position is. Encounters with the entitled are never pleasant. When someone lives in such a lofty spot they have many requirements of others. You are an other. Today I found myself one of the others. It was time for me to go to the grocery to pick up a few things. Recently I've changed grocery stores because of fresher, and more varied organic produce. Unfortunately it is in a rather snooty town brimming with the rich and famous. Beautiful homes, expensive cars, all the best shops with prices to match. When you've got money, no matter how you got it, it's easy to feel entitled because the world is generally looking for a way to get some of it. It's positively hilarious and sad to realize the depths to which we will stoop to ingratiate ourselves with the rich and famous in the hope of having some of it rub off on us, giving our dun lives a temporary sparkle.

  A well coiffed and smartly dressed woman approached me in the produce section of the grocery. She had the hint of a smile as if she recognized me. I didn't know her so I smiled politely and briefly and went on my way. She came up behind me and said, I'm the lady you wouldn't let merge. I must have looked puzzled. On the road . . . you wouldn't let me merge. Then I remembered being stuck behind a car doing about twenty miles per hour under the speed limit. When I finally got a chance to pass her she sped up and began to merge into the side of the car. I figured she was happy enough to mosey along before there was no need to get stuck behind her again. The light must have dawned on my face because she said, in a rather indignant manner, What was that about? I could tell by her tone there was no way this could end well so I said, I didn't think you knew what you were doing. Oops. That was the trigger. She flared back, I knew what I was doing! You're something else. Stupidly I said, And you're special? That was dumb but it was already out of my mouth. She turned on her heel in a huff saying, Yes, I am special. Well, once you start being dumb it's hard to stop isn't it? I said, You think so.

  Now we're here and I'm thinking of how we feel entitled. I live in snootyville and drive a snooty German car and live in a big, snooty house and buy my clothes a the snooty designer store and have my snooty hair coiffed at Jacques Penné so I'm entitled to merge whenever I damned well please and you'd better remember that! Meh. Whatever. The way I figure it is our cars and money; clothes and hair; houses and social clubs don't really entitle us. If they did she should have been pleased to not have been allowed to merge. She was driving a snooty VW something or other that wasn't a bug and I was driving a Mercedes. As I recall a friend of mine, who was stationed in Germany, telling me of a Mercedes Benz commercial he saw there that announced: Mercedes Benz. The only car in the world with a built in right of way. If I had it to do again I still wouldn't want to be stuck behind her for a few more miles. She really didn't look like she knew what she was doing. I looked for her in the store and never did see her again. That's when it dawned on me that she had followed me into the store just to tell me how entitled she was. Yawn.
  

  • 5:33 pm
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