No Thanks To You (Redux)

This is a little diddy that I posted several months ago, but I've encountered someone today that makes me think this one bears repeating. I hate being one of those bloggers that posts old material as new material, but damn! This is what's on my mind today.

I am beyond sick of people with no manners. I encounter these a-holes daily and if I didn't have manners, I would have to pistol whip them with a razor blade. That doesn't make sense, but it sounds like it hurts. That's the angle I am going for.

First, let's address cashiers. I tell them thank you after I've given them money for gasoline or Sunchips. Shouldn't they be telling me thank you?

"Thank you, dear customer, for getting your gas from this station instead of the one across the street. Thank you for helping to keep this station open, therefore providing me with a job and a pay check so I can spend it all on cartons of Kool cigarettes."

"Thank you, mam, for shopping at Wal-Mart although you knew you would nearly lose your damn mind and encounter grown women in Disney pajama pants while trying to simply get a bag of Sunchips."

Hell no. They don't tell me thank you. I tell them thank you, and they stare at me like I am a pain in their ass.

Let's move on to ungrateful brides. I've been to nearly a dozen weddings or showers in the last year. I got thank you notes from two of them. Two.

I spent a ridiculous amount of money at Macy's for your place setting and a toaster oven, another 8 bones on a gift bag and sappy bullshit card, plus hauled my bored children to your stupid shindig, listened to you drone on about colors and flowers and shit that is only interesting to you and you can't even write out a damn thank you note for all of my hard work?

The first thank you note I've seen in ages. And I googled it.

All the while I actually told you thank you for inviting me?

Once the wedding is over and you have nothing to bore us with anymore, why don't you sit your ungrateful ass on the couch, pull out some stationery and thank the people that showered you with shit you don't need and helped make your day special?

Oh, you'd rather sit on that couch, staring all googly eyed at your new groom, sharing a Little Debbie cake, painting each others toenails, and updating your Facebook status every 8 seconds about how in love you are? Get off the effing computer and write me a thank you note, dammit. I will even accept an email. I mean you're on the computer anyway. How easy would that be?

But I got nothing.

Mothers to be are no different. I raced all over town from one Target to another looking for that nipple cream on your registry, and you can't even tell me thank you for getting it? May your ungrateful nipples crack and bleed for 15 days.

I'm not saying I am better than anyone, but I vividly remember writing out thank you notes for people that attended my engagement party and wedding showers before I was even married. I scribbled out notes on little Noah's Ark cards immediately after both of my baby showers, despite being fat and bloated and contracting and peeing every 3 sentences. This isn't because I am all holier than thou. This is because I was raised with manners. And I knew thanking people for all of their hard work, time, gifts and attempt to make me feel special was something I had to do. So I did it. And I was happy to do it.

The mothers in the school pick up line are another bunch that make me livid. If I have enough courtesy to stop and let you pull in front of me, can I at least get a hand gesture implying that you appreciate it? Any time a person lets me cut in front of them, whether I am in the school line or out and about, I always wave and mouth "thank you." When these rude 30 something ladies, with their Thelma Harper hairstyle and Tigger sweatshirts pull in front of me as if it's their right, it makes me want to plow into the back of them and totally dent that honor roll bumper sticker and the stick figure family on the back glass. But I don't-because I have manners.

If I run next door and borrow eggs and sugar, I tell my neighbor thank you right there in her kitchen. I might even text her after I bake my cake and say, "Hey, thanks again for saving my ass with these ingredients so my kids could have a cake. You're aces." That's just how I am.

I've been known to tell a person thank you for a thank you note. Maybe that's a little absurd, but it is so rare that I get a thank you note. I really appreciate it when I do.

Maybe you think I thank people too much, but I think being thankful and showing thanks is an awesome attribute. And I am proud of that.

And I am proud to pass it on to my children. If my kids come to your door on Halloween, little Super Mario and Princess Peach will tell you thank you for those Skittles. That's how I've raised them. There is nothing worse than a Buzz Lightyear brat ganking all the Snickers and not saying shit to you. It makes them look awful, their parents look awful, and I feel awful.

Why does it make me feel awful? I spent a shitload on that bag of Snickers. And I could have easily turned off my porch light and kept the Snickers for myself. The fact that I didn't deserves a thank you.

"Thanks, lady, for keeping your porch light on and providing us with Snickers. We love Snickers."

You're welcome.

And thank YOU for reading my blog.