Waiting for Manners

My mother has a saying laced with sarcasm: "It's nice to be expected... and not arrive."

I've always loved that, because it's a not-so-subtle dig at other people's... dubious behaviour.

Friday, I spent an hour online waiting for an overseas family member to come online and who failed to do so, even though it was pre-arranged. It's Sunday night, and there is still no word from them, not an e-mail, nor a Skype icon.

It's a special day, today in Denmark for my niece. She's being confirmed (and what's up with that? Is it that until she has a Confirmation, she's nobody?). It's a big deal in Denmark and we wanted to give her a special call from Australia. Not to be. Their computer remained off.

Such behaviour pisses me off, but I'll forgive them because they're family. My brother, he'll have an excuse but I'll know that he's busy, or forgetful, or closer to the truth, that he simply didn't have the heart to tell us that junior didn't want to talk to us. Others, though, are not so fortunate.

My sister, for example, has been trying - subtly - to move her housemate on. The housemate is a woman who complains alot: about El's Paganism, music, food choices, lifestyle choices, every-bloody-thing, yet is happy to pay a pittance as rent. (Hell, I pay more and I'm looking after my aged parent!)

Anyway, a friend of El's came around last weekend and the two got to chatting. While El was sitting not five feet away, A. said to D. "I'm so over living with other people." Bad enough, but what came next was astonishing. She's moving - yay! - to another city - bigger Yay! - and is moving into a flat that has a rent six times what she pays my sister. Concerned, my sister suggested she share the flat, to which A. replied: "Oh, no, I can easily afford it."

WTF????

It would do me no good to be outraged - my stress levels couldn't take it - this is El's problem, but jeez! What the hell is wrong with people? Where have all the courtesy gone?

To hell with being offended if a man opens the door for me, I say 'thank you' and leave it at that. Men can offer their seat to me, touch the small of my back and guide me through a crowd, pay for dinner and a movie if they've invited me out and I won't get my feminism in a knot; it's simple courtesy.

But women. Watch out for them, for they'll still be smiling when they spit in your eye. Should I have the misfortune of meeting A. again - and yes, I have met her - the cold, arrogant politeness my mother taught me, that I don't get to use very often, will come to the fore.

I'd say A's a bitch, but so's my dog, and Saxon's got better manners.

Common courtesy costs nothing, but gains you much. The next time you open your mouth to say what you really mean, think about the consequences, maybe you'll moderate what you wanted to say and keep a friend; and maybe you're still an unevolved fuck-knuckle who doesn't give a shit.