Feren (feren) wrote,
Feren
feren

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Too much?

I send an e-mail. I politely ask a question. I get a notice in my inbox that informs me the letter has been read. This leads me to believe that a response should be forthcoming. Instead, I get silence. Nothing but static from the other end.

Is it too fucking much to ask that the other party respond, even if the answer is negative?

Fuck chivalry, simple courtesy is dead. It's the same thing everywhere I look these days. On the highways, some monkey in a Lexus is cutting people off and swerving from lane to lane in a mad attempt to get to the red light at the next intersection before the rest of us. When I'm trying to leave the office each day, I have to exit the parking lot from a rather unfortunately-located frontage road. I can watch, and I am not exaggerating here, twenty or thirty cars go by before there's an opening big enough for me to scoot my pickup truck into. The traffic light immediately to my right will have cycled three or four times during this mass exodus. It's amazing... not one single person can be troubled to wait the whole five seconds to let one car in front of them. In the office, I'll be just rounding the corner as somebody goes through the security door. It's not that I don't have my badge with me, but waiting for the computer to read it, validate it and then unlock the door just after somebody goes through can be something of a hassle. So I'll call out, asking them to hold the door. I see them look up, then just walk away, the door swinging shut behind them two seconds before I'm able to reach the handle. What gives? Has everyone become so self-important that holding a door for two seconds would break them, or have I just turned entirely invisible?

Nobody knocks on my cube's wall before they barge in with some issue or another they need to me to address. Nobody says "please" when they barge in there with their problems. Nobody says "thank you" when I fix a ticket for them. Cashiers look at me strangely when I say "thank you, have a nice day" after they give me my change.

Courtesy, people... It's what keeps me from slapping the back of your head with a chunk of angle iron (you were expecting me to say "it's what's for dinner," weren't you?).
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