I feel the need

I feel the need

Sunday, August 25, 2013

My nomimation for Worst Person in the World: #1

Good morning!

I'm not a person who likes to judge people, as most of you know.  I'd rather live and let live.  But in recent weeks I've come across a couple "humans" that I think need to be nominated for the worst person in the world.  Now these aren't mass murderers, these aren't people who have done, as far as I know, any real crime.  These are ordinary people who have proven, in the very short amount of time I've observed them, they don't have the skills and manners other normal humans have.

My first nominee is a woman. 

This the woman who sat one seat behind and one seat to my left at the Rick Springfield concert last month.  Now, how could a fellow Rick Chick make my list of nominees for worst person in the world?

Read on:

At the concert hubby and I sat next to two women.  In front of us was a vastly tall man, and the one woman, I'll call her Friend, was shocked and disappointment at having to sit/stand behind a mountain of a man. Hubby offered to swap our seats, thereby putting the women more toward the middle of the row, but away from the tall guy.

Friend and a lovely lady I'll call Tina refused.  See, Tina had had a knee replacement a couple years early, and it hadn't gone well.  The result was that the poor woman had to walk with a cane and sit on the end of the row because she needed to stretch out her leg.  However, she'd bought the tickets for Friend because Friend was one of those girls who, in the 80's, had a Rick poster in her bedroom and she kissed it every night.  She'd never been to a concert, and this was Tina's gift. 

Tina, however, was not at all able to stand during the concert, which sort of sucked for her because once Rick hit the stage, everyone got up.  Even the guy next to hubby, who informed hubby he'd been "dragged" to the concert, but, once halfway through his bucket of Bud Light, starting yelling, "THIS GUY IS F***ING AWESOME!"

(I know that, and I don't have to drink multiple beers to admit it.)

Anyway, Friend  (who missed making this post only because the woman behind us was so horrible) sat on the end instead of Tina.  (Tina sacrificed her seat and comfort so Friend could dance in the aisle.)  Tina, meanwhile, listened to the concert while watching the tall guy's butt.

Because the horrible woman at the concert
drank it all.
The horrible woman behind us, a leathery, smokey girl in the plus 50 years age department, was, preconcert and pretty much through out, slamming rum and cokes like she was on a mission to finish all the rum in the Wisconsin Dells.

While sucking down plastic cup after plastic cup of the brown elixir, horrible woman would also run up to the front, accompanied by an equally horrible male friend of hers, to dance in the front.  (We'd been told at the start of the concert to stay in our rows because those who were in the front had paid for front row tickets and we, in row Z, had not.)

That did not deter Horrible and her male companion who would, at random times run into her row (row AA) take her by the hand, and run her up the aisle.  Much of the concert she'd run of there with her drink in hand.  (Hey, priorities.  If they're going to kick her out of the concert for running to the front, then she wasn't going to lose her drink.)

At some point in the concert, I took off my shoes.  I like to be barefoot.  I liked the feel of the cold concrete floor on my feet and I really like dancing barefoot.  I was careful not to dance to wildly because, you know, Tina was sitting next to me, her head about level with my hips.  That would be an unpleasant post, having to admit I hipped a girl to death.

Anyway, one of these times when Horrible and her male companion made a mad dash to the front, she lost hold of her rum and coke and it flew forward...all 24 ounces of it...right into the back of Tina's head.

I knew something was up because I got the residual dribble as rum and coke flowed from her row to mine.  My feet got very sticky.  But not as sticky as Tina's head and shoulders.  Went and messy, she had to hobble out of her seat, past Friend, and out to get herself cleaned up.  She did not return until after the encore.

Meanwhile, Horrible returned to her seat and while we were all waiting for the encore to happen she said to me, "Was that girl with you?"

"No,"  I said, "but we'd been talking, so I sort of know her."

"Did my drink get on you?"

"Just my feet.  But she's sort of a mess.  She had to leave to get herself cleaned up."

And ladies and gents, this is the point of the story.  This is why this woman is nominated for Worst Person in the World.  She shrugged and said:

"Well, it's a concert. What do you expect?"

And there it is, friends...my first nomination for Worst Person in the World.

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