Things to remember when you leave your cave.

Many people in this world are a-holes. You know it. I know it. Everybody knows it.

Yet I am cursed with naïveté. Inconsideration never fails to shock and anger me.

However I’m not talking about run-of-the-mill acts of discourtesy that we complain about everyday. This is not about the jerk who nearly ran us over at the intersection while quacking on his cell phone, it’s not about the mulish youth who thinks that everyone should listen to his favourite chutney/soca/hip-hop song of the week  whether we want to or not while it blasts from his car, nor is it about the hoggish individual who cut in front of us in the grocery line.

I want to talk about the little things - things that are so mundane to me I can’t even understand how others fail to realise they’re being thoughtless.

One thing that really irks me is how disgusting public toilets are. I’m not a fan of using them, but when I have to I will venture into the realm of abominations for relief. Still, a single whiff of rancid air is enough to make me risk a bladder infection. Don’t leave toilet paper on the floor; stop splashing water (God I hope it’s water) around and for goodness’ sake, flush the damn toilet! Ladies, if you just used an automatic loo and it didn’t flush, please note there is usually a button or lever than you can use to flush the toilet manually, just look around. If it didn't flush the first time, try again! Rome wasn't built in a day! Nobody, and I mean nobody wants to see your stale piss. People, you don’t know when the cleaning lady will arrive, so don’t just assume someone will clean up after you. We all know that you don’t leave your bathroom at home like this (I hope) and that you think that you will only have to visit it once, but seriously.

Think.

Think of the person who has to use it next. You don’t want to have to see their business, what on earth makes you think they want to see yours? So please don’t leave us wondering how on earth that got there!

Yesterday, I was having lunch in a cafeteria. The guy across from my friend and I was impeccably dressed and eating his meal with a knife and fork exuding a level of class that most people weren’t displaying in there. Come to think of it, where did he get his knife and fork? Anyway, I really didn’t pay him any mind until he departed. I noticed then that he left his tray of leftover food behind without even a thought of throwing it in the trash and putting away his tray.

Now I know what I want for lunch!

This isn’t merely about there being additional work for the cleaners in the cafeteria.

I don’t know about you, but I sincerely hate to see half-eaten food lying exposed to flies and germs. It’s even more repulsive to think that someone might have been chewing on bones and bits of meat, and their saliva is mingling in that leftover meal. Not only that, but someone else probably wants to find a table to sit on, and more than likely they aren’t going to sit anywhere near your slobber-flavoured former meal.

Again, it’s the expectation that someone else will clean up after you.

Another thoughtless act I wanted to discuss is the matter of people walking in and out of air-conditioned places and leaving the door open. This really irritates me. Unless your hands are full, I see no reason for you to neglect this simple action. I’ve actually closed doors to air-conditioned public places just because I was walking by.

Or maybe I’m OCD.

Though when you really think about it, leaving a door open when the air-conditioning is running is wasting energy.

Simply because it isn’t your house and somebody else is paying for it suddenly makes it okay for you to waste it right? Then you complain that mall prices are way too high. Well they are compensating for the costs you’re incurring genius!

The last and biggest of these little things is the issue of manners. I know what you’re thinking. Having manners is an everyday thing. Maybe, but I don’t think most people realise how far something so seemingly insignificant can go. Five years ago I was the third car down the line at a gas station. The female gas attendant seemed bored at her job, pumping gas with no words being exchanged between herself or the drivers beyond finding out how much they want, super or premium. When it was my turn, I wished the woman good morning and asked for how much gas I wanted, super, please. I gave her my money, she gave me my change, I said, ‘Thank you,” and then something unusual happened: the woman leaned down, looked at me in the eye and said, “You have a great day today.”

I was floored. And I certainly never will forget it.

When you accidentally bump into someone, just apologise, when you’ve been bumped into, accept the person’s apology. You’re certain to meet people who will ignore your attempt at civility with dogged indifference, but never falter; you will meet someone who’ll give a damn. Maybe, as a society, we’re becoming so insensate that these things mean nothing even if we are on the receiving end of courtesy.

Sometimes I wonder if people still live in caves.

So easy?

Don’t misunderstand me. I am not perfect, and I certainly am not the paradigm of a moral hero. There are times when I forget to be gracious, but I think that at least I try and that I hope will make a lot of difference to somebody else.

The Thirst

soot v.

Trinidad & Tobago

To call and/or compliment someone by pulling air through pursed lips (or blowing air through open lips but closed front teeth with tongue pressed to roof of mouth). Catcall.

Everyone in Trinidad and Tobago knows what a soot is. Men of course create this sound with the intention of letting random women know that they find them attractive. The same sound is also used to summon dogs.

You see where I am going here.

I shall start off with a story, you know, because everyone loves stories.

Some time ago, I was in the grocery, shopping and browsing around. I noticed a scruffy elderly man staring at me at the other end of the aisle. Initially I thought nothing of it, but I would notice his gaze would follow me wherever he bumped into me into the grocery. Yes, he was gawking. Yes, he is old enough to be my grandfather.

Anyway, I finished up what I had to do, and then approached the cashier. Lo and behold, Gawking Grandpa cuts in front of me, without so much as a request to be excused. I curtly let him know that I was there first. He then mumbles something about him being there all the time and instructs me to ask the girl who was in front of the two of us for verification. I rolled my eyes and told him that he should have at least said something.

Anyway, Gawking Grandpa seemed to have been put off by my reprimands and no longer bothered to look in my direction. His attentions were now diverted to the hapless girl responsible for bagging his items after they’d been cashed.

With no attempt at subtlety he began to make his intentions clear – he wanted her to spend a night with him. She politely declined, referring to him as “Uncle” – a local term used to express familiarity and respect to elderly but simple men. He persisted, offering money this time – she responded that money wasn’t everything. And yes, his actions were extremely offensive, but what I found even more garishly offensive was the response of the cashier to all of this.

I frequent this grocery enough to know that the cashier is not merely a cashier – she is a lady of rank and status in the grocery, working for many years, and up the corporate ladder – for whatever reason she was helping with cashier duties today.

This cashier was amused by the relentless pursuit of this nasty old man, and the rebuffs of the girl, who all the while must have wanted to kick him in the balls, but had to keep her cool for the sake of “customer service.” The cashier had the power to stop it, to tell the man to be more respectful of their employees, but she instead chose to laugh – because an old creepy man offering a young lady money to sleep with him is hilarious.

Right?

Here’s the thing though, just about every woman in Trinidad at some point in her life would have been sooted (can I even inflect this verb this way?) The behaviour is considered practically quotidian.

I must wonder if no thought goes into the decision to harass women. And it is harassment. I’ve been told by strangers that I should smile more often, whereas I think these strangers should mind their own business. Do they know what kind of day I had? Do they know if someone just threatened to kill me? Why should I smile if I don’t feel like it? Especially when I know they just want an invitation to come and speak to me as if they have a chance.

I was even sooted on my way to a funeral, and I am quite sure the creeper in the car would have been able to ascertain that I was heading to a funeral, because I was wearing black, and (OBVIOUSLY) because I just popped out of a car parked near to the Mosquito Creek Cremation Grounds. Could I cry on your shoulder creeper?

What if I had lost someone very close to me? What if I had lost my husband?  Even though I didn’t, did they honestly think that at that moment I wanted to be gawked at? Come on.  

Then too, these days it’s harder and harder to tell the difference between a child and adult (an entirely different subject matter to be dealt with at some point), so that means these middle-aged creepers are sometimes ogling little girls. Creeper, you’re old enough to be her father. That’s how disgusting you are. When I was around seventeen I was told by a strange man that he wished he could be the ice-cream I was in the midst of consuming. I promptly tossed the ice cream in the bin and vowed never to eat ice cream in a cone in public again.

That’s what creepers do. Ruin innocence.

The way some creepers look at me, makes me want to cover everything on my body, even though I am already properly covered!

Women here have also heard everything from the wordless soot or hiss. They’ve heard catcalls with comments on their physical features from face, to body, to particulars such as breasts, buttocks and legs.

Yes baby. Nice, nice (in the grossest drawl imaginable).

I once heard a man behind me say, “Lovely, just lovely.” The guy never even saw my face.

Gyul yuh like varnish! Good for wood!

It’s even worse when they try to be polite about it. Good morning, sexy.

Vomit.

Most women’s vaginas tend to dry up instantaneously when they receive one of these creepy remarks. All women either detest it, or pay it no mind, but not once have I heard a woman feel charmed by such vulgarity.

This is not to say I don’t know that some women have found some of these creeps charming enough. I can’t explain why, but I will complain about how these men think that those women speak for all!

So the question is, what do these creepy men intend to achieve by speaking to women in such a manner? Do they really expect that panties will instantly drop? Do they expect that women would swoon at their… romantic… overtures? Or do they think women appreciate being gawked at while peacefully trying to get from point A to point B.

Now I am wondering if they were ever successful…

The most shocking thing in all of this is that these creepers are actually offended if women tell them off. As if women are supposed to feel flattered and beautiful when a complete stranger is staring at their breasts and ass as if they were KFC. Sometimes a woman will tell a man exactly how repulsive his behaviour is - his shock that he even got a response causes his piggy to shrivel up and duck between his legs.

However if a woman is with a male companion (regardless of the relationship with the woman) and that man attempts to defend the honour of the woman he is with, all hell will break loose. Creepers can’t allow some man to tell them they’re wrong, so they assert their manliness by cussing, threatening and carrying on. And after their macho display, they still go home all alone.

Ultimately, nothing is wrong with admiring a woman’s beauty, but consider the time, the place, and most importantly how you do it. There’s a creeper way, and there is a genuine and polite way to do it. If you seriously want a woman to NOT run away from you when you open your mouth, think with your head not your….