Thursday, February 09, 2012
I'm With Stupid
They are wonderful, aren't they?
Last week, I was carrying my son down the stairs in a shop. Well, I say carrying, but he is two years old. And he was in a buggy. So imagine, if you will, a thirty something man, carrying a child, in a buggy, down twenty or so stairs in a shop. (For a picture, it's one of these).
How long does it take to go down these steps? 10 seconds? Surely, you can wait that long. Unless..
As I had started on my way down, at the foot of the stairs, a male of advanced years - enough to be old enough to know fucking better, and probably a parent as well - walked into the shop, and looked up the stairs. Seeing me, and my son being carried in a buggy down the stairs, his first thought was, well - let's have a test, shall we?
a) run up the stairs and squeeze past the man, and the buggy with the baby in it.
b) wait until they come downstairs.
c) offer to help.
If you offered C) well done, you are a fully rounded, normal, considerate human being. B) not particularly helpful, but also, you're not a windowlicking mouthbreathing cretin. And A) then you're the kind of embarassment to mankind I encountered last week.
And thus, halfway down the stairs, Captain Stupid tried to push past me, with a buggy containing a human being. He raced up, and only stopped when he touched the buggy. I stood still for a second - after all, I wouldn't want the death-by-stairs of a stupid fucker on my conscience. He pushed again trying to get past.
"Could you go to the bottom of the stairs?" I said.
He pushed again.
"Get THE HINT". I hissed.
"I thought you said something else." he said. But the way I translated those words was not what he said, but what he meant. Which was "I'M A FUCKING IDIOT."
After a miniscule battle of wits - aided by the fact I have brains and he didn't - he went down the stairs, not, by the way offering to help a man carrying a buggy with a human being in it - so that when I got to the bottom of the stairs, my son (aged 2, and 1 month) said something.
"He's impatient isn't he?" Captain Stupid said and chuckled.
I thought for a second, and utilised the power of "FUCK IT."
"I wouldn't lecture anyone about impatience, if I were you." I said.
He laughed and walked up the stairs. I resisted the temptation to say anymore. After all, it's difficult to talk down to stupid people in a way they understand. Sometimes, not being an asshole is a curse.
Today, mind you, we were walking past the coach park after a meal.
I was distracted by the front coach, in which a shiny red can suddenly dropped to the floor. The coach driver, smoking a fag, had casually chucked his can of Coke out of the window onto the floor.
I walked up, picked up the can, and dropped it through the window into his lap.
"You dropped this."
To which, I charmingly was informed that I was a ...
.... but I'm not a littering twat.
"It's not my can!" Captain Stupid#2 pleaded.
"I don't care. Your coach, your can, your fudging problem."
Coaches do have bins on them, don't they?
Sheesh. People. I know they are stupid, but do they have to demonstrate this so obviously and completely unprompted with such stunning regularity?