'X' marks the rot

Are you in touch with an 'ex' despite being in a happy relationship currently? Then, read no further really. You and I are from very different schools of thought.

Think about it. Anything that has the word 'ex' in it, is either dead, dangerous, useless or prone to leaving you with a painful rash. Off the top of my head: Tyrannosaurus Rex, explosives, excrement, Dexter, sexists, exhibitionists, hexobarbital, vortex, sexagenarians, spandex, sexagenarians in spandex….

A mopey face greeted me over a cup of morning coffee. I used my equivalent of the popular millennial ‘wassup’ greeting, which is to say, I said nothing but raised a quizzical brow.

“My ex is getting married.” Heavy sigh.

“And what about your current?” I asked with what I hoped was a sympathetic enough face. The same face I adopt when someone announces they stubbed a toe against a fire extinguisher and yet their request for a medal of valour was brutally quashed.

“My current? I’m married to her.”

“She must be really great if you married her.”

“Well, yeah. But….” The mopey veil cascaded over the face again.

My phone rang. A friend. I picked it up expecting to hear the usual chirpy “Hello!” Instead, I was met with a series of stifled sniffles and sobs. And it isn’t even flu season yet.

The story began with, “So my ex was in town and….”

You get my drift. Exes are bad news any which way you look at them. Some want to get back with you, some want to get their backs on you, you want to get back with some, get your back on some. It’s all very backward.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a bad game of Scotland Yard. Everybody’s in pursuit Mr. (or Ms.) X. It makes for a really long, tedious game that really isn’t going to end well for anyone.

If you’re still hung up on your ex, then you’re being extremely disrespectful to your current partner. You aren’t doing the relationship any justice and you’re undeserving of any kind of love and effort they shower on you. Stop being a louse and cut somebody loose.

If that somebody is the ex, first off, get them off your damn Facebook and stop accidentally liking their pictures from 8 months ago on Instagram. There are enough psychopathic stalkers out there without you having to throw your clown hat into the demented ring.

When it comes to exes, the writing is quite clearly on the wall: Life allows you to exhale and exhilarate, if only you would exterminate, extinguish, extricate, excise, expunge, exclude, extirpate….

Mind Your Pees And Chews

The other day, I was in a public restroom at my office building. I was privy to a fascinating conversation. One sided. Simply because the lady in the next stall was busy talking on her cell phone while doing the deed. 

I mean, don't get me wrong. I was deeply happy for her since her son scored in the high 90s in his first grade exam and her aunty's hysterectomy went off without a hitch. However, I really did not need to know about the other son's persistent loose motions ("curry consistency") triggered by mangoes or the details about her father-in-law's prostrate examination.

The cell phone has successfully killed what remained of basic courtesy and simple decency. How often have I found myself seated at a table for a meal, pushing a bunch of potatoes around on my plate for amusement, simply because the three other people at the table are immersed in their phones?

The rot extends even further than the cell phone.

Have you ever opened a door for someone only to have them march through without so much as a nod of thanks as if it was your bounden duty to open doors for all of humanity? I constantly find myself stepping out of the way to avoid someone sauntering past without a thought for personal space. 

And as if adding insult to injury, the other day, this bumpkin not only shoved past me, but added a loud, ripe belch as he waddled past. I figured the belching may be some kind of pre-protozoan mode of communication for as he padded up to his desk one morning - the time people usually greet each other with a "hello" or "good morning", he let out yet another of those trademark belches. The only thing louder than those animalistic belches is his chomping and smacking while devouring lunch. 

The extent to which basic decency has eroded is appalling. 

I recently found myself in the role of a recovery agent - tackling someone who'd spent somebody else's money and then dodged repaying it for well over a year. Yes, my life gets interesting like that.

As it turns out, I am clearly better at pushing a person’s buttons than I am at pushing lift buttons (on account of being a 'germaphobe').  The money was repaid, but not without a whiny note about how difficult it was to have to pay and how "wrong" I was to have asked for it. 

Really? You spend somebody else's money that was not yours to spend in the first place (loosely referred to as "daylight robbery") and then crib about having to pay it back? That's a bit like stealing somebody's peanuts and then grumbling that they give you gas, no?

Shamelessness.

People, just stop it already. Stop with the bad manners, the screen gazing, the crudeness, the opportunistic selfishness. And the public flatulence.

That's all.

Please.

Thank you.