AN ANGRY DAY

I'm having an angry day. It could be the flu or it could be the old lady at McDonald's today when I went in to use the washroom. Okay, that's not entirely true. I did have a burger; it was a weak moment (talk about your true confessions). Some older woman pushed another lady out of the way. I wanted to ask the pusher after she got her food if it was worth it.
"Your retirement schedule a little tight these days?" I might have asked. "Thought you'd abandon common decency to get your chicken nuggets a minute and a half sooner?"
I comforted the lady who got shoved. "Just laugh it off," I said. "She must have been really hungry." We laughed, that kind of sincere laugh where you throw your head back and you can't help yourself. Except that I was a fraud. I wasn't laughing on the inside. I wanted to go and pin a badge on the pusher's husband. Most Patient Man Alive or perhaps The Stupidest. I wanted to knock her fries on the floor and scream at the top of my lungs. I didn't, but wanting to frightened me a bit.

I've not been prone to public rage. I'm indignant in private when I watch the news and see the injustices of society that seem to prevail above all things, like weeds that grow in the harshest of circumstances. I get on my soapbox and preach with the best of them, but wanting to pop some elderly lady in the chops seems slightly inappropriate. It set the tone for the rest of my day.

My eldest daughter has gone back to school. Her Masters. She had to do an ice-breaker, a get-to-know-your-fellow-students sort of thing. We laughed about how we hate that. Aimee and I feed each other in the "I hate this or that" category. I hate dog hair. She hates lazy people. I hate toothpaste in the sink except when it's me that spits it there. She hates bureaucracy. Okay, we all hate bureaucracy. I hate being forced to be friendly. I like spontaneous friendliness, the sincere kind. I can be friendly, but I detest being forced to do so. Forced to turn to my neighbour and introduce him or her to the rest of the group. Just once I'd like to throw proper decorum out the window.

"This is Ethel," I would say. "She has bad breath. Ever think of a mint after lunch, Ethel. Throw caution to the wind and try it." Then I'd make up the rest. "Ethel here does relaxation yoga on Thursday nights instead of going to choir practice. I'm not sure what she has to relax from but each to their own. Her top teeth are artificial but other than her left eye and right foot, the rest of her is quite authentic. She frequents McDonald's and does her lunch time workout there to keep her calorie intake down by shoving unsuspecting patrons out of the way. Oops. I digress. Loretta does her hair every two weeks whether she needs it or not.

Maybe that borders on nasty. Could be the angry thing is getting the better of me. Maybe I could just jump up from my seat and throw my arms over my head and sing like Ethel Merman.

"Getting to know you, getting to know all about you." From the King and I in case you are poorly informed. I'd use my best Broadway voice. I was raised on a steady diet of show tunes. I know every word to every song from Oklahoma, My Fair Lady, South Pacific. You name it, I can sing it. Picture me with a pretend microphone in my hand, belting out my musical repertoire while the other members of the ice-breaker scene sit dumb-founded, mouths gaping. Ahhhhh, it could be grand.

Hey, I just noticed ..... my angry is gone.

hum, hum, hum