Really, I Understand. The Rules Just Don't Apply To You.

When I say you, I mean you, and you know who you are.

You are the person in the car in front of me who, despite California legislation, does not have to wear a headset when using your cell phone and driving. You, it would appear, are exempt, and despite your abysmal driving skills, are allowed to drive with two fingers on the steering wheel while holding your rhinestone encrusted phone up to your ear to discuss, what I can only imagine, is a matter of national security.

You are the person on the freeway in the lane next to mine, who has permission from the California Highway Patrol and the universe to make lane changes without having to bother with those pesky turn indicators the manufacturer included with your automobile. It would also appear that the 70 MPH maximum speed is really just a suggested guideline like the FDA’s Recommended Daily Allowance of Vitamin C marked on your box of Cheerios.

You are the person who not only refuses to get on the green bandwagon by recycling, but for whom littering is not subject to a fine, but rather is an art form and you excel at throwing fast food wrappers, soda cans, old shoes, and used condoms out the window of your car.

You are the person on the treadmill next to me who, despite the dozen clearly posted Please Do Not Use Your Cell Phone In This Area signs, is chatting away on their phone. And not because I am close enough to hear you, but because you are shouting, I now know all about your marriage, that you have a yeast infection, and that, yes, you really are THAT important.

You are the person in the same aisle as I am at COSTCO. Despite the fact that the aisle is 10 ft wide and can accommodate several giant buy-it-in-bulk carts, your need to meander, slowly, milling if you will, in the center of the aisle, blocking all other traffic takes precedence. Please, do not pull over to the right to let me pass, I have all day and am really enjoying our time together.

You are the person in the checkout line at the market who decided that they really did not need that gallon of milk, pint of ice cream, and other items from the refrigerated section of the market, and took them out of your cart and put them on the magazine rack next to the belt. Thank you. I am really looking forward to being the person who gets that gallon of milk after it has been put back – after having sat on the magazine rack for an hour. But I understand, you are in a hurry, and you need to get your shopping done. The trip down the aisle to put it back would take up your precious time and besides, the clerk will figure it out eventually, that is what they are paid for.

You are the parent at the table in the restaurant who knows how much I want to share in your parenting experience, and your child is so charming, that you encourage him/her to run around the restaurant, gallivanting from table to table, while you take a breather and a moment to enjoy your meal. Really, I like paying $50 a head to babysit your child.

You are the person who used the restroom before me and, because it was more convenient for you, squatted rather than use a toilet seat cover and cannot deign to touch the handle of a public toilet to flush it. That is okay, I am also a part-time janitor with a strong stomach.

You are the healthy vital person who parks their car in the handicapped spot or does not get up on the bus/subway to give your seat to an elderly or disabled person. Not to worry, they are fine. A little exercise and balance training will do them some good, as long as you are comfortable.

You are special. You deserve these little considerations. Really, it is okay. I understand. I am good like that.