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... earlier today I was in the Post Office sending off an Express Mail package.
I was waiting in line, ensuring I had everything filled out, when I became aware of an idiot at the counter, whom I'll call Mr. Asshole, verbally abusing a postal worker. I guess Mr. Asshole didn't know that the Post Office gets busy in late December, and he wanted faster service.
I was still trying to tune it out, then I heard Mr. Asshole's very snarky, loud comments, "Congratulations. You managed to insult the customer inside of 30 seconds. Very professional."
"You dick", I thought to myself of Mr. Asshole.
The female employee walked away from the counter, and a supervisor took over to conclude the transaction with Mr. Asshole. I thought it was over.
The woman in line behind Mr. Asshole said something about being a little nicer. He snapped at her that this was not her business, and that he wanted to conduct his business there. As she went by to the next available postal worker, she called Mr. Asshole an asshole, and thus I credit her quick thinking in naming Mr. Asshole.
He barked at her some more asking, "Did you just call me an asshole?" Now I'm paying complete attention.
He repeated his question, and the man in front of me said aloud, "Well, let's take a poll by a show of hands." About five or six of us raised our hands, and Mister Asshole flips us off and tells us, "I'll shut your pieholes."
I shot back, "Try it", and stared right at him. He responds, "Oh, tough guy." I repeated the challenge as "Try me" and kept staring at him. He turned back towards the counter and said, somewhat more softly, "OK"--perhaps accepting my challenge.
A brief conversation ensued between me, and two men in front of me in line about decency, civility, and how the tough guys of the world often end up the one's with their backsides kicked. Once or twice we remarked about the Post Office being crowded this time of year, and sarcastically adding, "Who woulda thought?"
As Mr. Asshole leaves, he makes a point of flipping me off specifically, as he walks by on the other side of the counter. I wave and tell him, "Take care, princess."
I got to the counter, with a different postal worker, and got my package mailed. She actually saved me about $5 on Express Mail by using a different envelope. She told me for Washington, Oregon, and sometimes a few other states in the northwest, it's cheaper to use this other envelope. I thanked her for being so nice. While neither she nor any of the other postal workers thanked any of us for taking on Mr. Asshole, I sorta saw this happy glow in their faces that said "Thank you for doing what we could not do."
OK, maybe I pushed too hard and escalated the situation too much, and I accept that criticism in advance. However, there is at times a serious degradation in civility and common decency in public. I find it all too common for the Mr. Assholes of the world to verbally abuse front line workers, mostly because they can get away with it. The workers don't get to push back, and maybe they have the benefit of a supervisor who will step in to deal with difficult people.
When I left the Post Office, I did keep my eyes open in case Mr. Asshole thought he might wait for me outside. I saw neither hide nor hair of him. However, as I thought about it later, I might possibly have recognized him as a semi-regular fellow commuter on the Sounder Train. If he is, it should prove interesting tonight to see if he's still wearing his tough guy britches.
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