You know who you are. Or maybe you don’t.

 

Carolyn J. Rose

A few weeks ago I spotted an article about one airline cracking down on the size and amount of carry-on luggage.

Thank you!

It’s about time!

Those of us who check our bags and abide by the restrictions are fed up with watching others flaunt the rules. We’re tired of watching you try to wedge cases the size of young hippos into the bins above our heads. We’re tired of you squishing our backpacks and satchels in the process. We’re tired of you moving our things to inconvenient bins to make room for your excess. And we’re tired of not getting as much as a shrug of apology.

I’d say you all know who you are, but the fact is that many of you probably don’t. You’re too oblivious or selfish or entitled to notice your own behavior—or to care about the effect it has on others.

You’re the same people who halt your cart in the center of a supermarket aisle to have a phone conversation in an outdoor voice. You’re the ones who park straddling two spaces and abandon your grocery cart in a third. You’re the people in line with twelve items more than the posted limit. You’re the ones who don’t get out your wallet until everything is tallied and sacked. Then, without a glance at those waiting, you dig for a coin purse, pour out a collection of nickels and pennies, and count them. Slowly, of course.

You’re the folks who back out of your driveways without looking, zigzag across lap lanes at the swimming pool, never bus your table at a food court, and toss litter along the highway. You’re the folks who walk your dogs by my house every day and don’t bother to scoop up the poop.

If any of this is describes you, isn’t it time you got a clue? Or got your own planet?