Mid-Life Crisis Songs #99: One Day Soon, I Will Get Punched In The Supermarket

Sometimes, I think I'm a bit too honest on this blog. I reckon it's lost me readers over the years. People who read some of my self-pitying whinging or cantankerous outbursts and figure, "why am I wasting my time on this goon?" Come back, guys - I'll pretend to be a nicer person if you give me a serotonin hit comment every now and then... I'll even pretend to like the bands you like or not like the ones you don't think are cool. New Order rule! Billy Joel's a loser. That kind of thing...

Sorry. I can't do it. Got to be myself. Although sometimes being myself will inevitably get me in trouble, and there's nowhere this is more likely to happen than in the supermarket. Now it's an undeniable fact that you do meet a lot of rude people in the supermarket... the trouble is, I've become one of them. Admittedly, I'm only rude to people who I think are rude to me, but that's not really a defence, is it? Two wrongs don't make a right. That's one of the most important things my dad ever taught me.

I've developed a kind of involuntary response when I think someone's out of line - it's the kind of thing I might previously have thought but kept to myself. Except now I find myself saying it out loud. It started  off with me making a comment to Sam, along the lines of, "there's a lot of rude people in here today", or "this person is clearly more important than we are". Again, I'm not particularly proud of this, because I'm supposed to be modelling good social interaction for my son, but it tends to happen before I can help myself. If I stopped and thought, I wouldn't sat it, but it just comes out. And it's got to the point where Sam doesn't even have to be present, so now I guess I'm talking out loud to myself.

The apotheosis of this came on Saturday when I was pushing my trolley to the check-out and had to stop myself suddenly to make way for another customer who was barging along the aisle at full speed, irregardless of anyone else in the shop. 

"Oh, watch out," I said to no one in particular, "this man is clearly far more important than everyone else in the shop." By which point he was past me, so I continued to the checkout. But he didn't continue. Clearly he'd heard my comment, stopped his trolley, and was thinking seriously about whether or not to lamp me. I could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of my neck as I began to unload my shopping onto the conveyor belt, and I was steeling myself for the confrontation. After a few moment, he let it go. But it's only a matter of time...

The thing is, I hate confrontations. I go out of my way to avoid them under normal circumstances. So why is it I can't stop myself making these comments? It's like I'm suffering some king of non-sweary Tourette's. Except Tourette's Syndrome doesn't usually cause swearing, just non-verbal tics...  blurting out obscenities only occurs to 1 in 10 Tourette's sufferers, and is known more specifically as "Coprolalia", which iffypedia defines thus: "involuntary swearing or the involuntary utterance of obscene words or socially inappropriate and derogatory remarks." Now I'm not swearing at these people in the supermarket, but I'm usually able to limit my use of obscene language to appropriate settings, from years of working in radio and as teacher. It's worrying though that I don't seem to be able to stop myself. Or am I just using that as an excuse? No, because I really do not want to get into a confrontation, particularly with someone ruder and more obnoxious than me. I'd rather keep off their radar all together. But it's the injustice of it all, that some people go through life putting themselves first, never considering anyone else in society, lacking any basic human empathy. In my head, these are the people who come out on top - the politicians and the business leaders and the Audi drivers! And they get away with it because the rest of us don't ever speak up and challenge them. And after 51 years of this shit, I feel like Peter Finch in Network...

And then I take a step back. And I look at myself. I read back the ranting screed I've just hammer-typed onto this page and it makes me want to go back and press delete. I think about the effect it's having on my son, seeing his dad behaving in this way every week, the lessons I'm subconsciously teaching him. And I think about my own dad's lesson: "two wrongs don't make a right". And I'm ashamed. And I want to stop myself. And all I can think is, if I leave this here, if I don't dilute it or make it jokey or smart or sympathetic, maybe it'll help me stop. Because I do need to stop. Or else... One Day Soon, I Will Get Punched In The Supermarket. And where do I go from there?

Salim Nourallah is a Texas-born alt-country singer songwriter with a witty turn of phrase. I've been digging him a lot lately.

She's a lovely girl but she's a misanthrope
She's sick of the world, she's at the end of her rope
She's had it up to here with everyone but me
Cowboys, bankers, bikers too
She hates 'em all and she might hate you
But when we're alone, she's as sweet as she can be
It's why it feels so good when she takes my hand
When she tells me I'm her man
So good when she holds me tenderly
I'm the only one that she don't mind
The one man out of all mankind
She hates everybody but me