Thursday, July 14, 2011

modern miss manners: MY WAY

i wrote this in response to comments regarding an article about a restaurant/bar owner who has chosen to refuse admission to children under six years of age.

At one time I might have disagreed with this guy's action but I have to say that now I would be grateful if more public places would decide to do this.

Lots of people would like to ban service dogs for any and all sorts of reasons and, as we all know, someone who's SD is ill-behaved can be, and in my opinion should be, asked to leave. However, public opinion and public behavior (and also the waning concept of good manners) has changed in many ways, including the public breastfeeding of infants which I support if the mom is ok with it - after all it does shut the kid up. It has become more common for people to believe in the "live and let live" style of child-rearing for fear of damaging their developing little psyches, that or the adults do not "wear the pants" in their families.

C'mon though, when I was being raised, if a baby did what babies do best - make sounds approaching hypersonic and creating smells that constitute weapons of mass destruction - one or both parents had the consideration, genteel manners and inherent noblesse oblige to remove themselves and the offending nascent human being so as not to cause disruption for others. When I was a little older if I even tried to behave the way little animals do now I would have gotten my ass warmed, been removed from whatever location we were at (store, church, etc), gotten an extra swat or two when we reached the car and, almost certainly, gotten my ass beat again when we got home.

I don't go away from home much now but when I do I really hate it when one or more of the little beasts starts to shriek, throw food or other items or in any way make life a living hell for anyone not directly related or associated with them including the wait staff. I don't much care what they do to their keepers, that's their problem not mine.

Then there are the unruly little monsters who roam around stores or restaurants free-range, putting their inevitably dirty, sticky little meat-hooks on other people, their coats, clothing and/or purses. I am not blaming the kids, like any other animal they are only doing what they have been taught to do (and what they can get away with), but their adult companions should be publicly flogged.

I am not such a fan of unfinished humans that I can take that kind of thing with the equanimity that I once did. I am old, fat and crazy - I don't much care if someone I don't know and don't expect to see ever again likes it when I make my displeasure known to them. Truthfully, when it comes right down to it, I don't much care if I do know them or will see them again.

When I am not related to them or even acquainted with them, I am bound by neither a gender nor a racial (human race) imperative to put up with them. When I am related or acquainted with them I have no compunction about swatting their little asses whether in public or private or whether mom or dad approves or not. At the very least, I will succeed in partially achieving my goal of tranquility since those adoring breeders who are upset or offended by my smacking their little darlings will usually view me as a dangerous, child-hating harpy and will not wish to subject themselves or their cute little genetic mistakes to my presence henceforth.

So, when I am sufficiently annoyed, I will let them know in no uncertain terms that no one, small or large, who whines, cries, screams or throws public tantrums is neither accepted nor welcome in my little piece of the [public] world. And don't get me started on adults, elected officials and/or those running for office who throw public tantrums. When it comes to the larger little ones, toddlers and up, I have no problem bending down, making eye contact with them and growling menacingly at them prompting them to run (sometimes screaming) back to their assigned larger human. While I don't really care for the screaming; it does get me at least part of what I want, namely that they get the fuck away from me. I have also been known to take "little numbskull" by the hand, return him/her to the person who appears responsible for him/her and ask them to leave the premises or, at the very least, leash and gag the offending creature.

Thus, I am in favor of this gentleman's decision to ban small bipeds to avoid irritating [PAYING] members of his clientele and those who chose his establishment to enjoy a peaceful interlude without a floor show which reiterates and reinforces the myriad joys of birth control. Moreover, they may have chosen his location in desperate need to self-medicate against ('bar seating' indicates this) and/or to momentarily escape from the slings and arrows and outrageous misfortunes associated with their own, perhaps ill-advised, spawn.

Bravo, Mr. Vuick. Bravo.

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