I spent a torturous hour in a car dealership waiting room while my car was being repaired today. The poor magazine I brought had to compete with an elevated widescreen TV that was set at an elevated volume. It blasted the News at us — a 24-hour variety which consisted of chirpy reporters waxing enthusiastic about the most mundane events, interrupted frequently by even more distracting commercials.
The locker room and showers at the gym are fraught with etiquette issues. The people who come in dripping wet and slop water all over the place ― water which will then get your socks wet when you’re getting dressed. The women who set up a bunch of paper towels on a bench to sit on (naked), and then leave them there. The random tissues and papers lying around (Pick it up? Or run away?).
The day after I posted my last bit about cell phones in the supermarket, a woman complained to me about someone who blabbed on her cell phone while stretching in the gym.
At which point a tall, burly, dandruffy, overfed man walked straight into me. I felt like I had been assaulted. He didn’t blink, turn, apologize, or acknowledge it in any way. His eyes were hostile slits, his face impassive.