My grandmother, whenever she would see someone do something really stupid, would say quietly “dumb people” and shake her head. Her combination of native German and 50 year east Texan accent made it a memorable catchphrase.
I just wanted to take a minute and vent a little bit because lately I have been seeing a lot of “dumb” people. They know who they are, and sadly so do I.
These are the geniuses that spend five years salary on a decorator SUV then speed on icy roads because they have 4-wheel drive.
These people, having never won anything, are the ones with a closet full of participation trophies that they believe entitles them to superstar status and consideration.
These are they who took to heart, and expect the rest of us to accept, that they are just as “special” as mommy always said they were.
My daughter just had twins so I have been making the hour drive to her house to help out as much as I can. This means I have spent a lot of time on the freeway lately. Now I don’t know about you but when I drive on the freeway I set my cruise control for 5 miles over the limit and call it good.
This, apparently, isn’t good enough for a lot of drivers. They feel the need to ride my bumper, flash their lights or brag about their single digit IQ with a free hand when I don’t move out of their way soon enough. I have finally decided that if you are one of those people I am no longer going to move over for you. Feel free to pass me because I will let you. Save your childish displays of immaturity for someone who cares.
Look, I am sorry you choose to manage your time so poorly that you must speed or is it simply that you choose to risk not only your life and well being but that of others. The way I figure it, I am already speeding and I will not go faster just to make you happy. Get over it.
Also, if you have blown past me and later I come upon you after you have crashed know this. If I see children in what’s left of your car I will stop to help them. I have 20 years of first aid and CPR training under my belt and a well-stocked first aid kit in my car. Help them I can and will. You however, will not be my priority. If I do not see any children, I like to think I would still stop and help but I cannot promise that. I will call 911 for you and report your accident and your speeding to be sure but otherwise you may very well be on your own.
Some will doubtless label me heartless or cruel. So be it. The way I figure it you made the choice to drive recklessly. You made the decision to speed. To be completely frank, I have little desire to risk my life, or the lives of anyone in my car, on a freeway full of speeding drivers to help someone who chooses to make bad decisions. As my grandparents and parents taught me, sometimes you simply have to lay in the bed you made.
Now, what is it about the gym that brings out the thoughtless in people? I go to the gym 3-4 times a week and it never fails to amaze me the dumb things I see. Seriously, it must take a special kind of person to lift weights in flip-flops or even feet with only socks.
And, why does anyone need their cell phone during a workout? I don’t mean the handful of people who are using the built in MP3 player. That I can understand. I am talking about the people sitting on a piece of equipment and talking or texting while those of us who are cell phone free wait for our turn. I have even seen people in the hot tub with their cell phone. If you are one of those I truly hope you don’t drop your cell phone in the hot tub while I am in it because I know I will not be able to contain my laughter.
Speaking of the hot tub, just what makes people think that coming out of the steam room or sauna and jumping in the hot tub or pool is cool? There is a shower conveniently located next to the hot tub that works perfectly well and rinsing off is not only polite but can be done in just a few seconds.
I know in ancient Rome famous gladiators used to sell their sweat to upper class Roman women. However, in all my time at the gym, I have yet to see anyone lining up to soak in your sweat. Sorry to burst your bubble there precious but, just saying.
Finally, I have a politically incorrect thought. Having observed the Kenyan little Barry for the last five years, am I the only one that believes he would define the perfect date as a full length mirror?