Greg is perhaps rude to strangers

Okay, so my dear bassoon buddy recently whipped out his inner bitch in a way that was so very satisfying to read about that it almost seems to good to be true. As much as I try to do my bit to build a more civil society, which includes, as per Social Grace, the belief that criticizing the etiquette of others is always bad etiquette, there are moments where people really need to be called out. Usually we simply fantasize about what we would have said, and so even the vicarious thrill of reading about Bassoon Buddy's verbal bitch-slap feels like scratching an out-of-reach itch.

The weird thing is, on what I think was exactly the same day, I managed to do the exact some thing, except the bitchiness was a lot quieter, and directed at total strangers who probably didn't really deserve it. Maybe this had something to do with the position of the planets or something?

Anyway, picture it: the queue for Arena day tickets at the Proms, waiting for the ill-fated Neeme Jarvi show (see L'ist for details). I am by myself. Behind me in the queue were a middle aged couple, with a college-aged boy that they didn't know very well. Their conversation, while not actually offensive, was banal and irritating. I was trying to read a novel. The woman had a piercing, high-pitched voice that was difficult to tune out.

After, say, an hour or so of their banal conversation, I realize that they are talking about me, in hushed tones. This is rude, right? The exchange that follows was in a sense, a response to the dismay of being talked about very literally behind my back. Only after I was feeling slighted in this way did I realize what it was that was drawing their attention: the buttons (or, in UK English, "badges") on my bag. That these draw undeserved attention is something that I have pointed out before. When I realize that they are pointing at my bag while muttering to each other, I turn and make eye contact, unsmiling.

BANAL WOMAN: Your badge says "Try our fresh melon."
ME: Yes, it does.
SHE: (amused) What does that mean?
ME: (not amused) I think it is from a grocery store. It encourages customers to buy the store's melons.
SHE: Do you work at a grocery store?
ME: No, I bought it at a charity shop (=thrift store)
SHE: (clearly with nothing else to say) Well... it is a conversation-starter
ME: (with as dry an affect as I can possibly muster) Alas. The conversation is a short one. (I ostentatiously put my nose back in my book.)

I am both proud and ashamed of this exchange. Probably mostly proud.

In other news: I bought shoes. I am happy about the shoes. Perhaps when I have the computer back (Monday?) I will post pictures.