Lets talk about respect
So I had this bizarre conversation with a friend today. One in which he’s trying to clear up a misunderstanding and trying to apologize, but failing. Miserably. Pathetically. To the point where he’s annoying me all over again with the incessant swearing. And that really got me thinking- what the hell happened to respect?
I never really intended my blog to be a page from my diary, or somewhere to yak when word vomit sets in. But this, this is something I’m genuinely curious about. When did it become okay to swear and cuss like a drunk sailor in front of a girl? Alright, maybe the said girl can out-cuss you in five languages, but more emphasis on the fact that she doesn’t do so? I mean, at this point I don’t know if I’m being reasonable or otherwise. Obviously the situation has changed drastically from the days of bustles and hansoms, but there’s got to be a line somwhere? We live in a time where family dinners are eaten around a telly and when two people have a serious heart to heart conversation, it’s perfectly acceptable for them to text and update their status while they do it. Teens and and even tweens use the f word in every other line, and that’s just how it is. So maybe, if you take that into consideration, I’m old fashioned and I’m over reacting. Though it still feels like I’m not.
What happened to holding doors open? Or helping girls out of cars, or with their grocery, or any of that chivalrous stuff? And if that’s too much to ask for, at least watching what you’re saying? I mean, none of us are saints or anything. Newsflash, we swear just as much as you do. Just not standing on a ramp with a bullhorn. Our friends and better halves hear our rants generously peppered with expletives all the time. That doesn’t mean we like every single conversation we have with another human being to be one incessant curse-fest. There’s a reason it’s a no-no, it’s disrespectful. Respect, you know. That thing where you don’t treat a girl like a piece of meat? Where you at least pretend to listen to what she’s saying and wait till she’s walking away till you let the testosterone kick in. Or if you’re a modern day saint, respect her enough to be a friend.
Maybe I’ve been exceptionally lucky with men. I’ve always had best friends who are guys, and good guys. I’ve hung out with them, partied, set them up with girls (and in one case, guys), I’ve heard them out when they ranted, held them when the cried, and been there when they fought. The bottom line in any interaction is respect. It always needs to be a part of the base, the foundation.
So yeah. Next time don’t bother saying sorry if you’ll need to wash that mouth with soap afterwards.
If I let you stick around till ‘next time’ at all.