Love Thy Neighbor as Thy Doormat

Miami is unbelievable. Sometimes the rudeness is like something you would expect to experience in a federal prison.

I just went to Best Buy. They had a waiting area cordoned off. It was very obvious. You stand in the area, and the cashiers call you as they become available.

I arrived right after a lady with a big cart. She had her kids with her. Immediately, a man pushed his cart into the area in front of her, studiously avoided looking at both of us, and waited for a register. I was trying to be a Christian and not get into fights over trivia, and I guess she was, too, because we both let it go. Then someone with him–his son, I suppose–joined him with another cart. Still doing his best to pretend we didn’t exist, looking in one direction while he acted in another, as if looking in our direction would turn him to stone, he moved things from the other person’s cart to his and pushed the other cart directly in front of this lady, so she couldn’t get out of the waiting area unless she moved it.

“Nice manners,” I could not resist saying, very clearly and loudly. And she agreed wholeheartedly as she pushed the cart out of the way. Then another man and boy appeared, and they were headed for the register, when she flagged them and pointed out the big, conspicuous waiting area. They came and stood behind us, babbling with irritation, pretending to believe the waiting area was somehow irrelevant and that the proper thing to do was to barge ahead of other people. I could tell she was exasperated. Trying to get out of the store with her kids and her stuff, without killing anyone. “Miami manners,” I said. “Only in Miami,” she agreed.

She got a register, and the man behind me came and stood beside me, staring at the registers. I wondered if I was going to have to have a discussion with him. Imagine, acting like that in front of your kids. Teaching them to be trash. That other people are props in the grand dramas of their lives, to be used as needed. But he thought better of it and backed up.

I lived in New York, and while the people were nothing to brag on, you could generally count on them to wait in line at stores. In Texas, in a line dispute, the problem would be trying to convince the other person he was ahead of you.

I miss Texas so much. The people were wonderful. But I could say the same thing about other places I’ve lived. If you’ve lived in Miami and you’ve lived anywhere else in America, you know what I mean. Two kinds of people defend Miami manners. People who have never lived here, and people who have never lived in any other part of America.

Aren’t we human beings? Aren’t we better than rats and bugs, who think only of themselves? You have two choices in Miami. Live in constant conflict, or be treated like garbage.

I really want to move upstate. I’m going to visit another county and see what’s available. And when I’ve made the move, I want to have a shirt printed, reading, “Pardon my manners. I’m from Miami.” I guarantee you, it will be a hit everywhere I go. This town’s reputation has permeated the whole state.