Minding Manners

I picked up some lunch today at McDonald's, just like the cool kids do. Say what you will about their menu, but you can get some decent food—even salads—there for not a whole lot of money (done in moderation, of course, as the film Super Size Me reminded us all).

McRib season is right around the corner!

Anyhoo, upon placing my order and telling the nice lady "thank you" for ringing me up, she stopped what she was doing and thanked me for thanking her.

"That's the first time a customer has said 'thank you' to me all afternoon," she beamed. She went on to say that many others were too busy talking or texting on their cell phones while ordering to give her their full attention or to even make eye contact, let alone to simply say "thanks."

Saying "please" and "thank you," and saying them often, I have found, go hand in hand. If my parents have taught me anything that has helped me to make friends and to get along with others, it has been instilling in me the value of using these two phrases frequently.

One of my favorite all-time writers is Dave Barry. He's written a lot of laugh-out loud funny things over the years, but one of my favorite statements of his is also one of his most profound:

"A person who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person."

I have found this to be true both when I've been the customer and when I've been the person behind the counter or desk or on the phone trying to help someone.

Good manners, it seems, are still in style. Even at Mickey D's.

Fear and Loathing at the Grocery Store

Today, let's talk pet peeves.

Scenario #1: You're in your car, roaming the lanes in the parking lot at the grocery store, trying to find an empty spot to pull into. Invariably, shoppers with carts full of groceries also wander into the same lane, heading back to their cars.

The Angry White Loner is all for car/pedestrian sharing of these parking lot lanes. The problem is that, more often than not, these shoppers tend to walk right in the middle of the lane rather than moving over to one side or the other so that you and your car can pass them, taking their own sweet time doing so and either (1) are lost in their own little worlds, talking on their cell phones or corralling their bratty children or whatever it may be, or (2) they know very well that they're blocking your path, and they are openly taunting you as you follow, with mere inches separating your front bumper and their calves.

*Sigh*

This is one of those rare times when the AWL feels compelled to not break, but sort of bend, the traditional Christian/Judeo ethic of "Thou shalt not kill." He feels like he is just one "accidental" pedal press on the accelerator, instead of the brake, from gunning it and pulling an Amanda Bynes on one of these pedestrians. Odds are that the oblivious pedestrian would hardly feel it and would, after being run over, continue talking on his or her cell phone as if nothing had happened.

Scenario #2: You're finally inside the grocery store, waiting in a long line to pay for your purchases and then make your way back into the parking lot to take your own turn slowly walking in front of someone else's car. Because turnabout is fair play.

Suddenly, a new cashier appears at the previously closed register in the next lane and announces that it is now "open." And, like clockwork, most of the people behind you, without saying a word or apologizing for butting ahead, scramble over to this now-open lane and check out ahead of you in a "me-first" gesture of utter obliviousness.

*Double-sigh*

Thankfully, common courtesy is not lost on most people. The people in these two scenarios are the exceptions and not the rule.

At least, once I finish cleaning up the parking lot in my car, they will be in the minority.

Stubborn as a Mule

"A mule will labor ten years willingly and patiently for the privilege of kicking you once."
 -William Faulkner

Stubbornness . . . long sigh . . . is today's topic. The thing is, I'm not exactly sure where to start. It seems like I've been dealing with stubborn people all week long, so maybe that's why this is coming out on a Friday afternoon and I just need to blow off a little steam.

Even an Angry White Loner needs to do so every now and then.

Stubborn people tend to share a certain set of characteristics: They do what's best for themselves rather than for the group as a whole. They either refuse to or are reluctant to compromise, believing that their point-of-view or way of doing things is the best way. They leave important things undone because they believe someone else must do them. Quite often, the stubborn are slaves to routine.

In a very real sense, stubbornness is just another manifestation of selfishness. Stubbornness is not a trait I look for in a friend. In a romantic relationship, it is a deal breaker.

On the other hand, stubbornness can actually be a positive trait. I admire people who stick to their principles and values and refuse to compromise them. The same can also be said for people who dig in their heels, work hard, and don't quit until a project is completed.

That kind of stubbornness, however, is not the kind of stubbornness that has driven me to the point of frustration this week. The stubborn creep into our lives very sneakily. They sneak in among our friends, co-workers, neighbors, etc. Like the body snatchers, they are claiming new victims and increasing their number on a daily basis.

With a devil-may-care attitude, they shoot off extremely loud fireworks until 2 or 3 a.m., showing little-to-no regard for the noise they are making or for your safety. They carry on long conversations on their cell phones as they drive, slowly and recklessly weaving in and out of their lanes of traffic. You make repeated requests from what you thought was a trusted co-worker to do something simple for you, and those requests are repeatedly ignored or cast aside for their convenience or for other petty reasons. Friends receive invitation upon invitation to participate in activities with you, yet they never turn up . . . and then they wonder why nobody wants to hang with them. Your improv troupe has a relatively new second home on Saturday nights at a fledgling theater, and rather than support that theater, many people would rather not go there at all than offer to help out.

Sigh . . .

I could go on, but I won't. Suffice to say that the stubborn, like so many mules, belong in the glue factory.

*The AWL will be back in a day or two with a more cheerful subject. Maybe.*

The Man of Aluminum and His Kryptonite

I just read online somewhere (source: somewhere) that the new Superman movie Man of Steel soared (ha ha! . . . get it?) to an incredible $113 million in box office earnings over the weekend. That's a lot of money! Putting it into figures we can all understand, it is the same as approximately .0066 percent of the current national debt.

Contributing $7 of my own to the cause, I caught the film yesterday along with a handful of family members. It was certainly a trip down memory lane for me, as once upon a time I was a strange, little kid who liked to dress up in my Superman costume nearly every day, often accompanying my poor, embarrassed mother to such public places at the grocery store and Primary activities while dressed in said outfit.

Now a strange, big kid, I must admit that I enjoyed the film immensely. Not to give away too much, but Dwight Schrute of "The Office" fame makes a cameo appearance as a childhood friend of Clark Kent's who grows up to become the manager of a Kansas IHOP. Also (and these are real spoilers now, so feel free to put your fingers in your ears and chant "Lah lah lah lah, I can't hear you!" until the end of this paragraph): There is surprisingly no mention in the film of either Lex Luthor or of kryptonite, two staples of the Superman universe.

True and seemingly unrelated, but bear with me, story: For Halloween a few years back, I created one of my favorite all-time costumes by tearing off a roll of aluminum foil, folding it around my head, and going to a Halloween party as one of the characters from M. Night Shyamalan's Signs - you know, the scene in which they create aluminum foil hats for themselves to keep the aliens from reading their minds? People at the party apparently had not seen Signs (their loss entirely, am I right?) and were utterly bewildered, thinking I was some sort of mutant Hershey's Kiss.

Ergo, if I were a superhero, I would not be the Man of Steel but the Man of Aluminum. And my one weakness, or kryptonite, as referenced in my previous post, would be: talking to women on the phone.

After all of these years of trying (and failing) to perfect the art of conversation over the phone, it's still no easier in my 30s than when I was 16 and was planning my first date. It can be a fine line trying to be funny/charming and coherent, while showing an earnest interest in her and what she has to say, and often I end up being none of the above.

One thing remains constant: I am a dweeb.

Sometimes, I stay awake at night wondering exactly how women feel about talking on the phone to someone who sounds very nervous doing so and is trying not to come across as, oh, say, Ted Bundy. Are they amused by it in a you're-such-a-moron fashion? Are they trying their hardest not to burst out into laughter? When they agree to go on a date, is it motivated by pity? I have even heard of a third school of thought: They actually see it as someone who is moving forward with a date request in spite of his fears and/or nervousness. I daresay, some are even impressed by it.

Whatever the answer may be, I can certainly understand why people find security in texting or e-mails or Facebook or what-have-you. It's a lot safer that way - especially if the girl declines the date request. That way, there's no awkward conversation that follows ("Well, will you be washing your hair on Thursday then?") and a can't-get-there-soon-enough hanging up of the phone.

Nevertheless, fellow males and Justice Leaguers, I admire the fortitude you show me in moving ahead in spite of your fears, for I believe that we all have them with regard to the opposite sex and also that this is the only real way to conquer our fears in the long run. I have accepted the phone call as a necessary evil in life and will need to keep phoning (preferably texting) women now and in the future.

Just don't expect a Man of Steel on the other end of the line.

People Are More Important

The other day, I was working on my laptop at McDonald's - Mickey D's, in case you were not aware, not only has (arguably, I realize) good food but also free Wi-Fi - when I couldn't help but overhear a conversation between a rather frustrated father and his teenage son over on the table adjacent to me.

The situation was basically this: The boy was paying a lot more attention to his iPhone than to his father, to his meal, or to basically anything else going on around him. I don't know if he was texting or playing Angry Birds or what, but he was far more involved in the virtual world than in the real one. The father did not like this. He repeatedly asked his son to put the phone away. Finally, the father said, "People are more important than iPhones."

This is not the kind of wisdom one normally expects to hear at McDonald's or at most any other public place, for that matter. But I feel that it was a profound statement nonetheless.

In my own travels, it has not been uncommon to see a good number of people paying more attention to their iPhones, iPods, iPads, flux capacitors, or what-have-you than to other people, and it usually makes me feel sad for these folks. There are the more-obvious examples of this happening, such as people texting while driving their cars or a couple having a text conversation while sitting right next to each other. There are also the less-obvious examples, which include people sitting alone in a corner, away from the crowd at a social event, texting someone else and essentially giving out the message that "present company" is just not that important. I am also told that there are people who stay up into the wee hours of the morning texting their friends for hours on end.

Don't get me wrong; like Kip in Napoleon Dynamite, I love technology, and it has done a great deal to improve all of our lives and the way that we communicate. I'd rather have a text conversation with someone than no conversation at all, or I'd prefer to send out a mass text to, for example, my improv troupe when it would save me the effort of making 30 different phone calls. But texting is something like #15 on my list of preferred communication methods, and I'd much rather have face-to-face interaction with people. Also, the purpose behind texting, for the most part, is with the goal in mind of seeing that person or persons in a face-to-face setting later on.

But Angry White Loner, you say. You send me about as many texts as everyone else does.

To which the AWL replies: That's quite possibly true. How about we meet up face-to-face and discuss it over dinner sometime?  Your treat, of course. ("You," in this case, is a single woman that the AWL wants to get to know by sending random flirty texts.)

Admittedly, if he were Superman, the AWL's kryptonite would be talking to women on the phone; he doesn't deny it. (Speaking of which, the AWL has a ticket to see the new Superman reboot Man of Steel this Saturday, and he wants to get in on the hype. There may very well be a movie review forthcoming.)

At any rate, perhaps that's a topic for another blog post. And perhaps the wise McDonald's father's message was meant for me just as much as it was meant for everyone else. Speaking of whom, if we ever meet again, sir, it will be my privilege to buy you anything you want from the dollar menu.

Your treat, of course.