I Hate People

Sometimes I'll be driving and just utter, "I fucking hate people."
Sometimes, I feel bad about saying it. Even though I mean it. Other times, I don't give a good goddamn.
This is one of those times.

Aaron has been quite miserable these past few weeks. A wheelchair, coupled with a brace he wears all day, has reduced what he can do to just about nothing. He and Tonya went to Shriner's in Houston last week and they took away the wheelchair and diminished the use of the brace to just at night. Aaron was delighted. He was given a walker to promote his mobility and to help strengthen his leg. Since he has very limited use of his left arm, the walker comes with a handy platform and strap to immobilize his arm and help provide support.

Tonya and I had to go cash her paycheck and figured we would go to HEB (our local grocery store) and stock up for the next couple of weeks. Since Aaron was with us, he would either have to amble around the store with his walker or ride in one of those motorized shopping carts. He elected the cart probably because it allowed him to drive. He sometimes gets excited at the prospect of driving, but we have to bring him down from his cloud. Aaron will never drive. But he is able to control a bumper car, so we figured this would be okay. He actually drove very well, minus a few minor collisions with endcaps and miscellaneous store obstacles. As we moved about the store, Tonya and I both noticed that just about everyone we encountered was fucking rude.

This HEB ain't nothing to write home about. The produce isn't always fresh. Some of their items are marked up a bit compared to the HEB by our house. For me, the only reason to drive over there is for the beer selection. Aside from that, the store is nothing special. The Central Market on Broadway, which is frequented by the likes Tommy Lee Jones, when he's in town, has the major selection of fine foods and produce. Of course, you pay through the nose for the privilege. I mention all this because some of these people must have thought their shit didn't stink by the way they behaved. And they behaved like a bunch of rude fuckers.

The entire time we were there, trying to help Aaron move around the store, there were nothing but sighs and eyes being rolled and general dislike of the fact that our son couldn't move around properly. Or at least well enough for them. A bunch of fucking snobs, these assholes were. A couple of people were really nice to Aaron; they moved their carts and offered him the right of way, whether they had it or not. Most everyone else could have given a damn. They blocked isles and stood by as Aaron repeatedly said, "Excuse me, please," in a very calm and respectful tone. Aaron was the model of manners. I wanted to start smacking people in the mouth.

I don't know that we'll be going back there to shop. I might head there for the beer, but if it's possible, I'll just try some other place. I won't take away from any of those people who were nice to Aaron and gave the kid a hand. Kudos to them.

What remains clear is that I do hate people. They prove to me, with great frequency, that their capacity for selfishness and their love of material worth is greater than their capacity to get along with the other people on this big blue marble we call Earth.

I hope that someone reaffirms my faith in humanity soon. Lately, I just fucking hate people.

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