We're Living IN A SOCIETY

The BBQ Pit
1

You know, I’ve been saying that ever since I heard George Costanza say it on Seinfeld. I feel myself wanting to yell it more than more

My kneecap was dislocated on Saturday. I am on crutches with an immobilizer. I am a clumsy oaf of a lummox with all the grace and coordination of a one legged sloth. AND YET, if I may toot my own horn, I have not taken any time off of work. I still get up…hobble to the train station…climb up the stairs at a glacial pace, stumble onto the platform and get onto the train.

There’s a sign on the train that’s been there since the day I moved to Chicago. It’s a simple, black white and red sign with the ubiquitous “crippled stick man” for a logo. It says “PLEASE GIVE YOUR SEAT TO THE ELDERLY OR HANDICAPPED” Simple…and to the point.

Now, in theory, I CAN stand…it hurts, but I can do it. My leg isn’t broken, I’m not in EXCRUTIATING pain in the morning…but still…I would be much more comfortable sitting down…

You. You little fucking pischer, twenty two year old Accenture briefcase havin’ fuckercock. STAND THE FUCK UP AND LET ME SIT DOWN. This guy looked me over, while on his cellphone ordering underage whores I suspect…decided that I wasn’t worth his daily milligram of charity and went back to talking. No one got up. Not the chit chatting teenagers with their slipknot backpacks and buttons that say MEAN PEOPLE SUCK, not the construction workers, not the lady reading “The Cat Who Cried Murder” or some such shit. NONE OF THEM. I was astounded.

And guess what happened then. An old, frail, gray haired woman, a grandma so cute you’d want to frame her and keep her in your closet said,

“come on dear, you sit down. I’m getting off at the next stop.”

THANK YOU DEAR.

No, I know…these people didn’t HAVE to give me their seat, it’s not the LAW…no it’s not a BIG deal, and I’m over it already…but I’m not going to switch to decaf, I’m not going to up the dose…I’m not going to lighten up.

PEOPLE…we’re living in a society! When did people Stop Caring About Other People? Just Be Nice, OK? Just Try to Help Someone even if it’s NOT YOUR JOB. It’s NOT VERY HARD.

sheesh. :frowning:

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JAR, I’ve never met you in person, but based on your posts, I just know you can throw the Evil Eye. I realize you only use your powers for good, but maybe the EE may help you out here.

If not, you can have my seat. :slight_smile:

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We’re a SOCIETY?

I thought we were an anarcho-cynicalist commune.

That slothblower obviously wasn’t raised right. When I was younger, if I didn’t give up my seat to someone who might have even been the teensiest bit physically worse off than me, my mom woulda clubbed me upside the head with a bag of flounders.

4

I really believe that an intensely urban environment tends to make people more callous or desensitized if you prefer. It’s easier to tune out other people when you live in a major metropolitan area.

Case in point: A good friend of mine got a flat on a freeway in Austin at 10 am. She was epically pregnant at the time-think Shamu. Austin is/was a city known for its neighborliness. No on stopped to help her.

I live in a very rural area. I got a flat about 5 miles from home and called the husband for assistance. Before he could get to me, 3 count 'em 3 pick-em-ups had stopped to help.

Sorry you had to stand.

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Ahh, yes, I’ve been there (used to live in the Bay Area).

Not “been there” as in been injured and on crutches, yet forced to stand on public transportation because some buttsuck refused to give up a seat, but “been there” as in been tempted to maim aforementioned buttsuck for refusing to give up seat to someone who needed it. On those occasions, I would stand up and offer my own seat (loudly, eyeing several other passengers in the process), but that often only served to force the person to hobble and trip several feet to my seat, while the young and spry folks in the prime seats near the exit doors sat cluelessly reading their X-Men comics.

Hoo-wee. Chalk one up for living in a small town where nobody takes the bus…

6

For me, at least, in situations like that…I don’t stop to help because I fear for my own safety. I have passed people broken down before, and known that I had a jack, two gallons of water, and 20-foot-long jumper cables in my car but I didn’t stop because God only knows whether they’re actually broken down or not.

As far as jarbabyj’s rant…I couldn’t agree more. Unfortunately, people have different ideas of what it means to be a decent human being. To me, it means giving up my seat so JarbabyGimp can take a load off her crutch. To others…apparently it means nothing.

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Quote by jlzania:

I live in a very rural area. I got a flat about 5 miles from home and called the husband for assistance. Before he could get to me, 3 count 'em 3 pick-em-ups had stopped to help.

I’ve lived in rural areas all my life, except the past seven and am used to stopping to help people. My wife has spent all her life in a major urban area.

She still is flabbergasted that I always try to stop and help people and we’ve argued about it.

It’s happened twice that I’ve stopped to help someone and she dives into her car and locks the doors.

Most are very surprised and grateful I’ve stopped.

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I was sitting at the back of a bus one time when a little old lady walked on, obviously having difficulty even making it up the stairs. Unfortunately, the ‘courtesy’ seats were all full of other folks who needed them. Except for the two high school kids who just sat there and talked while the lady near collapsed three times while the bus started.

A gentleman who was older than god stood up, offered his seat to the lady, then turned on the two kids. In front of the whole bus, he berated them loudly for their rudeness and informed them in no simple terms that they would vacate their seats posthaste or he would make them. As they stood, red-faced, he also demanded that they apologize to the original old lady. Which they promptly did.

The whole bus cheered and applauded, and the kids got off at the next stop. Kinda restored my faith in human nature, if only for a little while.

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You do realize, of course, that had I been on the train you’d of been more than welcome to sit on my lap.

There are men that need to be bitch slapped. I’d have taken your lipstick, carved a dickhead into it’s tip and written “callous buttsmear” across the suit’s forehead. What a waste of a carbon lifeform.

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One of my good friends is pregnant and takes the metro in to work everyday. There are seats right next to the doors that specifically say they are reserved for the handicapped, elderly, etc.

Now, mind you, being pregnant isn’t necessarily a liabilty to one’s health and dexterity. And early in your pregnancy, you might not be showing or the person may not want to embarrass himself by offering his seat to someone who really has only been eating a few too many cinnabons.

But, my friend is now 8 months pregnant. She looks like she’s trying to smuggle a butterball turkey under her dress. You know that girl is knocked up! Hell, she might as well be walking around barefoot to complete the ensemble. :wink: And, as my friend says, her equilibrium is a bit off - what with what basically amounts to a sack of potatoes strapped to her belly. And she also tells me how the worst offenders who make her think their backsides are superglued to the metro seats are the young, Capitol Hill, suit and tie wearing asshole men. They never, never give up their seat for her.

Instead, usually, it’s an older woman who will.

Unbelievable. But I’ve made her stop telling me the stories because I get so hot under the collar when I hear about it.

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Jar, did you think of asking for the seat?

Most people do have manners, sometimes they may just need a gentle reminder.

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Well, I was gonna sympathize, but if you’re the kinda sicko who keeps old women in her closet, you’re not getting my seat :slight_smile:

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Twist, well, that’s really my point. I COULD stand. It’s not like my leg is missing. I don’t want to be bitchy and tell people to get up. It’s not a big deal, I just can’t believe people don’t have more…consideration for others.

I guess that’s the psycho chick in me “If you don’t know why I’m mad, I’m not going to tell you” sort of thing.

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In situations like that? At 10 AM in broad daylght a pregnant woman is going to mug and rape you? Remind me never to trust another pregnant woman again…

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Hamadryad, I understand your trepidation and I’m not dissing you for it. However, it was broad daylight on a very busy freeway. My friend was driving a little convertible number so it was obvious that she didn’t have anyone hiding in the back. She’s a small woman and was 8 1/2 months pregnant. I can’t fathom why one of Austin’s big bad stud muffins didn’t stop to help.

BlinkingDuck-it’s a country thing, isn’t it?

Aguecheek Love your anecdote.

A slight hijack with apologies to jar:

My husband and I were in London several years ago. We were going to the theatre on Saturday night and although we were dressed to the nines, we elected to take the underground. A very proper elderly British couple got on and my husband offered his seat to the gentlemen so that he could sit next to his wife. The old geezer remarked rather loudly “it was nice to see that some young British men still had good manners.” My husband said in his very best Texas drawl: “My momma will be real glad to hear that when I get back to the States, sir.” That’s when the old geezer noticed that Mr. Zania was wearing cowboy boots. His expression was priceless.

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jlzania, I obviously know nothing of your friend’s situation but seeing as how “Austin is a city known for it’s neighborliness” and her incident occured “on a very busy freeway”, is it possible that traffic and inaccessability conspired to prevent those that would normally have stopped to render aid from doing so? I can imagine there would be times when not seeing someone in distress until the last second and then attempting to manuver over to a shoulder that may or may not exist might in fact contribute to the possibility of a collision.

Again, I know nothing of her situation but Austin is full of compassionate folks.

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I bet Kerry Wood would have stopped to help.

sigh…he’s my texan hero

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Yep, Kerry Wood.

And jar… that’s “Texan.” :slight_smile:

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Jar, dear, you have crutches? You do know they can very very handily used as weapons, yes? You sidle up alongside Mr. Cellphone, gently place the rubber tip of your crutch on his instep, and lean down heavily on it. Or, alternately, you might accidentally catch him on the side of the head while trying to maneuver yourself through the car.

I think you can be trusted to wield your power wisely.

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Nahlieu I know where she had the flat and there was ample shoulder to pull over.