Miss Manners, I am not...

When boredom looms in my life I get a little bitchy. Ok, a lot bitchy. The little things that I would probably brush off get on my nerves. At its extreme, I actually do or say something to express the normally internalized bitchiness.

It's kinda like that part in Wanda Syke's "Sick and Tired" when she talks about how "I don't give a fuck..." has become her personal mantra.

Paper or plastic? I don't give a fuck.
Box or soft? I don't give a fuck.
Would you like the dark or medium roast? I don't give a fuck.
Top or bottom? I don't give a...oops, TMI.

Giniqua, stop laughing and get off the floor. You're at work for goodness sake.

So yeah, I'm pretty bored. And bitchy. And, unfortunately for some lady -- who I'm sure didn't think she'd get a can of whoop-ass opened on her at the grocery store -- I expressed my bitchiness.

This morning I went to the Pick-N-Save across the street. As I was waiting in line at the customer service counter to buy a pack of cigs, there was this short stocky lady in a hideous winter coat standing in front of me. We were standing there together for a little more than 5 minutes because the lady at the front of the line couldn't quite grasp the idea of a discount only applying to 5 items when the signage says MAX 5.

I stood patiently and felt for the clerk. I remembered back to diners who were outraged because they couldn't use a $10 off coupon even though it had expired a year and a half earlier. Or the clueless assholes who would declare that their coffee didn't taste like a latte.

Seriously, the expiration date is printed on the front of the card. And really now, a latte is espresso and steamed milk, there's not a lot else to say.

As I'm waiting more than patiently, I notice that short stocky lady in hideous winter coat standing in front of me -- heretofor known as Tragic -- has turned around for at least the second time to stare at me.

And then she did it again.

It wasn't even that "I think I know you from somewhere" kind of stare. It wasn't that "I'm really just staring off into space and you happen to be in the sight-line" kind of stare. It was a full-on "is that a terrorist standing behind me as I board a plane" stare combined with a "what would Jesus do?" stare.

Now, I know that I live in an area that doesn't seem to attract/allow very many minorities. A few blocks north of me is Whitefish Bay, which I recently found out is nicknamed Whitepeople Bay.

I've been stared at before. Maybe it's because people don't think I speak English and therefor assume I can't see them stare. I don't really give a fuck. Most often it's kids who are trying to figure out what the hell I am.

Back to Tragic at the Pick-N-Save. The fourth time Tragic turned around to stare at me, my internal censor switched off and the internal became external.

Me: "Can I help you with something? Anything?"
Tragic: "...."
Me: "Usually staring at someone is considered just plain rude. Turning around to stare at someone is even ruder. Doing both of those things as many times as you have is incomprehensible to me."
Traigc: "I...dont'...uhh..."

I stared her down. Then I realized that the woman behind the counter was looking at me incredulously. Tragic walked up to the counter and asked to buy something or other. I walked up to register #2.

Me: "May I have a pack of Parliament Light 100s?"
Counter lady #2: "There you are, anything else?"
Me: "A mask of some sorts (motioning to my face). Apparently I need it..."

And then I turned to my left and stared down Tragic. She knew I was staring at her. She did that whole if-I-don't-look-at-the-mugger-he-won't-mug-me stare into the horizon directly in front of her.

As I was loading my groceries, I realized that after my little outburst I was the last person who should be lecturing on manners.

I really couldn't give a fuck.

Is that a sports arena?

Obviously, I voted today.

And I left my polling place with that dirty dirty slutty slutty feeling. Even tragic Winesha made fun of me.

I voted a straight party ticket for the first time. Ordinarily I'd say gay ole party ticket but it was a horrible day for Wisconsin gays.

I'm definitely an Independent. I always read up on candidates and issues before I head to the voting booth and usually have to bring a list into the booth with me. I've voted for Republicans. I've voted for Democrats. I wanted to vote for Nader the first time around. I didn't want to vote for Kerry. If given the choice, I wouldn't want to vote for Hillary Clinton -- Mr. Hillary Clinton notwithstanding.

A majority of Republican candidates in recent history have effectively communicated their vision and determination to achieve that vision. A majority of Democratic candidates have bumbled and wavered and shown an unwillingness to inspire, lead or - at the very least - grow a spine.

Then again...like Bill Maher said so eloquently...

While the Democrats have been the party of no ideas, the Republicans have been the party of really bad ideas. Economic and tax policy. Education. The environment. International relations. Disaster management. Urban policy. Medicare. Social Security. Social policy. Immigration and naturalization. Civil rights, privileges and issues of equality. Budget and debt. And -- lest I forget -- a determination to do away with that nagging system of checks and balances. And the Bill of Rights. And every Supreme Court decision since -- oh about -- 1789.

Seriously now. Anyone who half listened to their junior high social studies teacher or went to at least one of their Intro to Poli Sci classes in college -- you know, to get the syllabus -- should have raised an eyebrow every time a politican used the words "activist judges." Or "legalized torture." Maybe "held indefinitely without due process at the discretion of the President." At the very least, "conversations with God" should have flagged some concern. Even among the most faithful.

Democrats' responded to these confounding developments with a resounding...

... ... ... ... ...

...yeah, I don't know either...

But, the only way to vote against the American Inquisition has been to vote Democrat. And that makes me feel dirty. And slutty. Voting a straight Democratic party ticket makes that even worse. I might as well have gone commando in ripped jeans with a t-shirt that said "Pre-lubed."

I looked down the ballot and listened to my conscience for a bit. Attorney General. Police Chief. State Senate. I wanted to vote for a Republican, Independent and a Greener. I stared at the Police Chief section for the longest time.

In the end, I thought of a Republican Attorney General who says gays and lesbians should have "no special rights," a state legislator who speaks about "family values" in only exclusive rhetoric and a history of Police Chiefs who were overtly hostile toward Milwaukee's gay community. The differences between the Democratic and Republican candidates other positions are almost nil.

I filled in the straight Democrat arrow, shook my head and shoved my ballot quickly into the machine.

The constitutional amendment banning the recognition of same-sex relationships passed by a huge margin. The margin was so big that the decision was called with barely 3% of precincts reporting.

I could go on and on about all of these amendments, but common sense and logic hasn't seemed to work anywhere. Even in Hawaii. I guess it just hasn't been enough that both state and federal governments say I'm not a full and equal citizen. An overwhelming majority of people in my two home states had to make sure that I never will be.