I spend most of my time in over-crowded places. Partly because of my up-bringing, partly because of the values of the people I call my friends, and partly because of the way I see the world, I recognise that there has to be some compromise in negotiating these public spaces. Times when one gives way, and times when one expects others to. Golden Rule is to give way to the vulnerable (except when doing so when create disproportionate danger etc etc).
I become very exasperated in my head when other people are singularly unaware of the need to compromise. I'm not talking about the misjudgements we all make, frequently, but of the attitude that 'there is only Me in the World'.
It started to boil at the Crossover Brits when twice I had situations where people said 'Excuse me' and I yielded, only to realise they specifically wanted the space I was occupying, for no other reason than that it was a better space than they had ie they were pushing me out of the way.
It got worse outside the Stage Door at the Chatelet last Friday, when some bloke rested his arm on my shoulder, in order to reach out holding something he wanted Plácido to sign. I wriggled the arm off. He plonked it hard down on my shoulder and said "This is very important!". I lifted my shoulder up hard and shoved his arm off me, saying "I am sure it is..." He didn't try again, or else he would have had a punch in the face or perhaps somewhere I could actually reach, him being quite a bit taller than me, and thus actually physically bullying me. Notwithstanding that I was on foreign soil, and on the whole, one doesn't wish to get into punch-ups in the presence of one's heroes.
It got worse on the Sunday when we had been to Sacre Coeur in the searing heat. We were using the open top tour buses, which are generally a good idea to Stop Gert OverDoing It, and to get a superficial view of large chunks of cities.
The bus was supposed to run every 15 minutes. We arrived at the bus stop. It was deserted save for two Indian women, and a local who was getting the normal service bus. So we guessed we had just missed one and would probably have to wait a while. We didn't bargain on a 45 minute wait, in searing heat, and the only shade a heat-trap of a Perspex bus shelter.
The crowd grew, and I wondered whether we would even be able to get on. Eventually the bus came. It was full but many people were getting off, for Sacre Coeur. Loads of people who had been waiting for five or maybe ten minutes surged forward. One of the Indian women stood in a strategically sensible place, the other casually placed her hand on the bus and I did likewise (classic Brixtonian tactic).
Eventually we were allowed to board. Firstly, some twenty-somethings who had just arrived, then the Indian women managed to wriggle through the surge. I got on and some thin ugly woman tried to push in front of me. I shoulder barged her out of my way (not violently, just enough to squeeze past her). Her husband then tried to shove me, so he got an elbow in his beer-belly. They both glared at me, but I couldn't care less. They had arrived all of two minutes before the bus. I am absolutely certain they would have perfectly understood if I had explained that some of us had been waiting 45 minutes. But I wasn't wasting my breath on low-life scum like them.
I used 'sufficient force' and I am satisfied morally that I was neither violent nor attacking the vulnerable. I feel justified in the moral code of First Come First Served, so no guilt whatsoever. I do feel angry, though, that I have descended to their level. They've brought me down, and I am not proud of that. I can justify it in saying, I am only rude to those who mistreat me, but a slight niggling fear makes me wonder - did all rude people start off like that before losing the ability to discriminate? Am I on a slippery slope? Perhaps they thought they had 'earned' the right to be among the first on the bus by pushing other people out of the way.
At St Pancras on Tuesday, having passed the Customs post, we came out of a door, effectively bringing us 'groundside'. A party in front of us stopped to look round. I accept that they were not sure where to go next, but that is really no excuse. Indeed I said out loud "Great place to stop, blocking the exit for hundreds of people behind you". Most other people were taking several paces in any direction before stopping to get their bearings. We were just as 'lost' but being 'lost' doesn't mean that you have any Right to cause a pile-up behind you.
The office I have been working at until last week is just a few doors from Parliament Square. Last week, with English half-term and various other countries in semi-holiday mode, it was even more jam-packed with tourists than ever.
There are currently road works which involve a railing separating the pavement from the road. I walked along the pavement; in the opposite direction came a party of teenagers, probably aged 16+ walking four abreast, taking up the entire pavement. Not one had the intelligence to work out that there were several people, happy to walk in single file, wishing to pass in the opposite direction.
Not one had the common sense to think 'we're currently walking four abreast; if we narrow down to two abreast on this rather average-sized pavement, we can still go on our merry way and let these other people go about their business'.
Instead, I got a series of glares from some ugly teenage boys, all of them taller and fatter than me, at my impertinence at not moving out of their way, and utterly surprised that I wasn't prepared to wait until they passed (which I would have done if they were Nursery or Infant age children). Perhaps they have been brought up to be centre of the Universe; in which case, their parents ought to be ashamed at not preparing them for the harsh reality of life.
Later that evening, I was outside the Coliseum in the interval. I was playing with my phone (saddo, me) and heard a woman asking someone for a light. The 'someone' suggested she asked someone who was smoking. She approached me, and I handed her a lighter. She said in a whiny voice "I would have thought eveyone standing here would be smoking..." Neutral-toned, I replied "Not on a hot night like tonight..." She lit her cigarette, and continued, in whining tone, "You wouldn't believe the bad day I've had, I couldn't find my ticket..."
I replied "With all due respect, I'm simply not interested...".
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the corner of a man's mouth twitch in amusement. Again, I think I was justified. I had been previously 'doing something', and I was in no mood to listen to a stranger wailing about non-problems. Perhaps if she had said "Are you enjoying the performance?" or "It is warm, isn't it?" or "Typical non-smokers invading our space when it suits them", or even some self-deprecating comment like "I'm always losing my lighter," I might have joined in with some small talk. But I'm not obliged to be the shoulder-to-cry-on, despite me fulfilling that role for at least twenty years. But, again, I wonder, I am turning into one of the rude people?
Yesterday at the Chatelet, having had my nicotine fix, I went to join the long queue for the Ladies (as a side issue, I was disorientated by being surrounded by about 8 women, all of whom were noticeably shorter than me; outside of Primary schools, I have never experienced that before, very weird!).
The warning bell rang, and I found myself being pushed in the back by a fat woman (as it turned out she just wanted to drink from the tap, which, as it happens, wasn't dispensing water, anyway). This occurred at exactly the moment a cubicle door opened and an elderly woman with a white stick appeared. Several women moved aside, one woman approached her and said something, I assume an offer of assistance. I stayed stock still - which I judged to be the correct thing to do - but, still, fat woman shoved me!).
When I was finished in the cubicle, I opened the door to find the exit blocked by two women who presumably both wanted to use it. Fair enough, but... I looked at them both, but neither moved. I could not have exited without barging them aside.
Fine, I thought, and stood there. And stood there, waiting. Both their faces began to show panic, and they looked pleadingly at me. Then they looked at each other and both moved aside, it slowly dawning on them that they weren't going to get in until I got out, and I wasn't getting out until they created a bit of space for me.
What is scary is that, presumably, most of these people drive, regularly. Perhaps it is their car addiction that makes incapable of negotiating walking space on the rare occasion they actually leave their car. Or maybe the two facts are unassociated, they are totally self-centred and do believe the world revolves around them, then wonder why they are involved in road accidents.
But just generally, I am amazed at the stupidity of people. I am not idealistic and do not expect people to behave purely altruistically. But I have worked out a long time ago that it generally makes my life easier if I have an awareness of my immediate surroundings and react to them.
Of course I make mistakes, and I recognise that others do, when we are making split-second judgements. But when people make mistakes, they make some facial expression or even voice an apology, which shows they realise they misjudged. Which is fine. It just amazes me that other people haven't cottoned onto the fact that life is generally easier if you accommodate others' needs rather than careering through life like a blunderbuss.
