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Conrad's Column


I Hate Litterbugs*
and other human animals


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"Originality is the fine art of remembering what you hear, but forgetting where you heard it."
-Laurence J. Peter

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"Read not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider."
-Francis Bacon







 

You know the type, donīt you? The kind of fellow citizen who likes to behave as if he were alone in the world. The kind of person who considers only himself. The kind that really, really irritates me.

Iīm in a traffic queue on a motorway. The weather is hot, so my window is open. I have nothing to do but wait until the traffic gets going again, so Iīm looking around. In the lane next to me, someone puts her arm out of the window, holding a big ashtray full of ashes, sweetsī wrappers, cellophane, and ice lolly sticks - and turns it upside down. I am shocked. But I donīt say anything. I know about road rage, so I say nothing. But the expression on my face is hard to conceal. And the "lady" in the other car sees my face. Immediately she shouts: "Hey, I pay my taxes, you know!" I would really like to react with remarks like "Yes, and littering is the reason youīre paying it!" - or "So do I - and now I know why Iīm paying too much!" But I restrain myself and keep these thoughts to myself.

Itīs early Sunday morning. The sun is shining, the birds are tweeting. Thereīs hardly anyone on the country road, except me in my car - and about twenty racing cyclists in front of me. Normally, they ride two by two. But itīs early in the morning, thereīs hardly anyone about, so they just do what they want. Four, sometimes five riding together - next to one another. Donīt they see me? Oh, yes they do! As soon as the group thins out and I make an attempt to pass them, several swerve to the same side, making it impossible. They seem to consider themselves lords and masters of the road, without any consideration for other road users. Have you ever wanted to get out of your car and strangle a cyclist? I know I have!

Monday morning. I enter a full train. Iīve been wise enough to buy a first class ticket, which should ensure me of a seat and some rest. Or so I thought. When I enter the very last first class compartment of the train, there is already someone there. Someone who - although I know looks can deceive - doesnīt look like he might have a first class ticket. His duffel bag and his scruffy clothes tell me so right away. Moreover, he is smoking in a non-smoking compartment. And what is worse - it doesnīt smell like he is smoking anything legal! When I ask him politely to put out whatever it is that he is smoking, pointing at the non-smoking sign, he completely ignores the remark and starts talking to me like Iīm one of his grass-smoking mates. His tales of where he is going, donīt exactly excite me. Apparently, he is on his way to prison - for the third time. When he keeps smoking, ignoring my pleas to stop doing so, or to move to a smokerīs compartment, I rescue my lungs by removing myself from his presence.

This is antisocial behaviour, and I hate it. Why canīt people just take other peopleīs needs, feelings and health into consideration? They donīt necessarily have to be so selfish, do they? Of course not. See - I knew youīd agree with me. But if you agree with me, does that mean that antisocial people donīt read this column? In which case having written this column doesnīt seem to have made any difference...


* Yes, I know - litterbug is an American term. Litterlout, I believe, would be more appropriate in a column written by an anglophile who prefers the Queenīs English to the American variety. But then the subheading would have been out of place, so I made an exception.

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Disclaimer
This column is only for the purpose of entertaining, educating or giving food for thought. Any persons, characters, countries, institutions or groups mentioned are - as a matter of principle - fictional: any resemblance to existing ones is purely by chance. ;-)
If the content of this column offends anyone, please accept the columnist's apologies: no offense was intended.


column noun
1a: a vertical arrangement of items on a page
b: a vertical section of a printed page
c: an accumulation arranged vertically
d: a department or feature (as of humor, sports, literary reviewing, or gossip) in a newspaper or periodical, under a permanent title and generally reflecting the writer's individual tastes and point of view. 2: a supporting pillar 3: a form, structure, or formation shaped like a column (Webster's Dictionary.)

Relevant reads:

How Rude!
How Rude!: The Teenagers' Guide to Good Manners, Proper Behavior, and Not Grossing People Out

Bad Boys, Bad Men
Bad Boys, Bad Men: Confronting Antisocial Personality Disorder

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