What's that under your nose?

Do you have poo smeared beneath your nostrils? Like right on your upper lip? Because that's the look you have on your face when you walk around. I sincerely hope the poo-scenario (or an equally stinky substance) is present because if that's your day-to-day look ... you're rude.

I bet you don't remember, but one time I was walking through a doorway one way, you the opposite. Near collision. As any decently-mannered, nay, common-sense-having human being would react, I said, "Oh! I'm sorry ... excuse me." You looked at me, borderline glared at me, and I was immediately gifted with mind-reading powers. In your head you said, "Damn right you're sorry. You're in my way." You actually said nothing, walked ahead ... but those actions spoke some powerful words.

Now, I'm teaching myself patience. Normally in this type of instance I try to dish out what we call "benefit of the doubt." It was a bad day, perhaps. (News flash, though, we all have them.) But I'm revoking said benefit because this type of encounter didn't go solo. It had many friends.

But something pushed me over the proverbial edge. This moment was wrong for so many reasons. So wrong that I began picturing you with a Hitler-style moustache. Yes, you were that bad. Just remember, to gain respect you must first give it. That's all the further I can go.

P.S. I've never formally met you, so you've got some work to do in the "impression" department. Good luck with that.