A few weeks ago, I was taken to lunch at a restaurant that serves very large portions. I ordered the white truffle mac and cheese, which was absolutely delicious, but there was no way I could finish it all. I had the leftovers boxed up, and on the way out, I saw a homeless man and woman, so I walked over and said “Hey, do you guys want some mac and cheese?” The woman smiled and said “Sure!”. The man immediately said “Do you have a dollar?”. I smiled, said “No, but I have mac and cheese!” and then trotted off.
Here’s a man whose life is entirely dependent on the generosity of others, to the point that when he is given something substantial, his instinct is not to express gratefulness, but to see if he can get more. I don’t blame him, I blame the hundreds of people who walk by every day without giving even a little bit. It was a bit a WTF moment, though in a sad way rather than an angry one.
Actually, I’m this person. But I’ll tell you why: the automatic doors have more pressure built in to the opening mechanism when you try to open it manually. So it’s not like opening a regular door, it pulls and jerks back unpredictably when you attempt to open it. I’m not a weakling by any stretch, it’s just annoying for it to be jerking out of my hands while I’m trying to get inside the building. I just got sick of fighting the door and started hitting the button instead.
While I was wearing the cast on my arm, I had to ask people to tie my shoes and zip up my coat. I will never understand the two people that turned down my requests.
I had the opposite experience last month that put a shine on the rest of my day. I was fourth at the check-out lane of my local supermarket holding a small red velvet cake from the bakery. Everyone else had more items, but I didn’t have a problem with it since it wasn’t an express lane. I was chatting with the guy behind me and mentioned that I was buying the cake for my wife’s birthday, which was today, and that she had a weakness for red velvet cake.
The guy in front of me heard and insisted that I get in line in front of him “since it’s your wife’s birthday.” After going around and around for a bit, I finally relented and stepped in front of him. Then the guy after him did the same thing, and the woman in front of him, all saying, “Hey, get home to your wife.”
By the time I checked out, the whole line of strangers was wishing my wife a happy birthday. So, WTF was up with them, anyway? I’m not sure it’s relevant, but no one in the line appeared less than seventy.
And that button WANTS to be pushed. That’s why it’s there. That’s what the door was built for. I understand that opening it manually can cause wear and tear on the motor.
I knew this was coming. Who the fuck is judgmental? Do I say anything to them? Have I ever even said it in real life? Since you don’t know me, no, I haven’t. You are being rather judgemental about something that has no impact on your life - me commenting on this, in a thread on the Dope, that asks for your “really” moments. Honestly.
I shall continue not using the button, unless I have stuff in my hands. Others can continue to use the button, as they will. I will continue to raise an eyebrow internally and everyone can live their happy little lives.
Besides, I had already decided I was going to assume this reason for everyone doing it:
IIRC, this was the ruse that Ted Bundy would use to lure women to his car so he could kill them. He would ask them to help carry something while wearing a fake cast.
The funniest WTF moment came when some friends of mine went out to lunch one day in West Philly. We are walking back to the lab and a tall, attractive, young black girl asks one of my male friends to fish her Transpass out of the back pocket of her very tight jeans for her because she just got her nails done. He pulled it out for her and we all went our separate ways. We were all a bit dumbfounded.
What if he’s handicapped? I have many disabilities, but it doesn’t stop me from taking fencing lessons. I’m sure that your grandma could out-fence me. But you know what, who cares? i’m having fun and getting exercise.
Which reminds me, “walking” around a supermarket on crutches is a real eye opener. The amount of people that genuinely just do not give a shit and will just walk through you.
I once worked in an office where the stairwells smelled of marijuana on Friday afternoons. Maybe your colleagues were planning a little post-meeting recreation.
my gym has a 5 story parking garage and a very small lot right in front of the gym…yeah the garage always has instantly available parking while the lot almost always has people circling looking for a space.
Not a woman, or user of women’s restrooms, but I’ll plead guilty to snagging a bigger stall in the men’s room when I can. For some reason, I’ve grown averse to the tiny stalls most public restrooms have, especially if the lighting is bad in that restroom; it’s not claustrophobia, I’m just not comfortable in them. So I’ll use the handicapped stall when possible.
Seriously! WTF are these people doing?! In the time they sit there at the ATM, they could balance their checkbook, refi their home mortgage, plan for their retirement, and do a little market research and analysis on the next hot stock they’re going to drop a hundred dollars on.
An even bigger WTF moment are the groups of assholes (IME, either middle-class business-types in polo shirts and khakis, or grungy, long-haired Bohemians with their cased musical intruments festooned with their “I toured Europe” collection of country-specific bumper stickers on them) who stand there and take up the whole moving walkway, and refuse to budge for the people coming up on the left, or only begrudgingly move aside with a “Well, if I really must” put-upon air about them.
I’m not sure it’s relevant, but no one in the line appeared less than seventy.