Some days I’m an arsehole

I am almost always sleep deprived. I have trouble sleeping and my neighbours wake me each morning (they work the early shift). Despite this, my natural setting is still pretty positive; I’m polite, I smile at people and, allow them room. But there are days when I’m an arsehole.

Yesterday I was caught behind a truck going 40km/hr in a 100km/hr zone. Once I got out from behind that truck I drove like an arsehole the rest of the way to my destination. Some times I’m day dreaming, going slower than the speed limit, and there is a car riding my arse; maybe we’re both being an arsehole in that situation. But once I realise I either speed up or move out of the way to put the poor bugger out of his misery. I don’t intend to be an arsehole.

About a month ago, on public transport, I politely asked a woman to turn off the sound on her cellphone. I dislike confrontation so it was a big deal for me. Her response was abusive.  I don’t think she realised her phone noises were effecting other people. She was bursting my bubble of personal space but my pointing this out to her probably burst her bubble too.

In the last year or two the population of Wellington has increased noticeably. There are more people on the trains, walking on the streets, more cars on the road. On the New York Subway I noticed that unless it’s peak hour people are so considerate, or maybe mistrusting of others, they will stand rather than take an empty seat next to another person. To maintain a happy community we need to recognise when we’re being an arsehole and correct ourselves.

This piece is partly in response to The Same Standard Distribution of Asshats by Richard Parry and Not Everyone is an Asshole by J. C. Hart (note that I use the British spelling arsehole rather than asshole)
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