Rant #2,550: When Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

 

Yes, I do meet up with all the weirdoes when I wait on the line to get a coronavirus test.
 
Yesterday, I waited with my son so he could get the test based on his possible exposure during his athletic events that he attends.
 
The quick test found that he is negative, thank God, and now we await the results of the more involved test, which I am sure will come back negative, too.
 
But waiting on the line … I mean, I just don’t get it, I don’t get it at all.
 
Here is what I wrote on Facebook yesterday afternoon while we were waiting on the line:
 
“On the line with my son to check for coronavirus. Idiot moron ahead of me vaping and putting on nail polish as she waits ,most of the time sitting on the curb and telling me she is still on line.

With no mask on as she vapes.

So you are so concerned by the coronavirus, but you don't fear cancer and heaven knows what through vaping?

???????????????”
 
I mean, I just don’t understand people.
 
But it continued on. Here is part two of my post:
 
“,,, and then when I ask her to stop the vaping, she told me she was going to do it even more, pointing it at myself and my son, and opened up a real potty mouth to me. I should have told the guard inside, that was my mistake, but this girl was a real pig.”
 
I mean, I just don’t understand people.
 
And the end of this whole thing was when we got into the clinic and signed in and had to wait to be called, we sat separately from this pig.
 
When her name was called, she got up, came right on top of me, lifted her mask, said some vulgarity to me attached to “Merry Christmas,” and walked away, never to be seen again by myself or my son.
 
I am happy about that.
 
Her name is Emily, and if she happens to be reading this, what can I say … right back atcha.
 
Look, it was my fault. I should have told the guard inside the clinic, but I didn’t, and that was my mistake.
 
And yes, I could have called the police when she was shooting her vapors toward myself and my son—it is akin to spitting at someone, which is a punishable offense in these times of COVID—but I felt that I didn’t have a leg to stand on without having told the guard, even though I had probably at least 25 witnesses behind me who viewed what was going on.
 
I have said this time and time again: this is not the world I was born into.
 
The world has changed a lot in my 63 years, and where we are now—COVID or no COVID—is not a world I am proud to be a member of.
 
So many people seem to be on their own little island, having no cares in the world and no cares about those around them.
 
And we call this “suffering” today.
 
We don’t even know what the word means.
 
Ask those born during the Depression like my mother, about what “suffering” is.
 
Ask those who fought in World War II, the Korean War, Vietnam and succeeding conflicts what “suffering” means.
 
The current generation, which has made themselves so fragile about everything around them, and can’t handle any situation without going onto social media and crying about it, have no idea what real “suffering: is.
 
In conclusion, I wish Emily well, but as she vapes her life away, she will need more than my help to make it through this world in one piece and with her lungs—and her mind—intact.
 
No  one can fix a piece of work until they want to be fixed, and this young lady was broken with every vape gust that she sent our way.
 
Have a great weekend. I will speak to you again on Monday.