Being polite is lame

''Dearest God, if you make this person go away I'll start to believe in you."

I find myself repeating this prayer over and over again too often.
I inherited a lovely trait from my mum that means no matter where I go, I attract anyone in the vicinity who is crazy or lonely or needs to talk about something. Anyone with an issue/ mental disorder/ imaginary friend feels that I am somehow their kindred spirit and would like to have a chat.

This is incorrect.

If you've read my other blogs you'll know about the nutjobs at The Rosemount, but I'm not talking about them. I get that when I'm at work I am a provider of alcohol and this attracts all types and that's my own fault for choosing that job. I'm talking about when I'm off work in my everyday life, minding my own business and some freak decides to bail me up and discuss his latest case of gangrene on his big toe, (this really did happen once).

The other day I was waiting for my takeaway dinner in Mount Lawley so I wandered over to Planet Books to kill some time. There I was quietly flicking through some novel when a guy walks up besides me, holds a book right up to the side of my face and presses the button on it that emits a farting sound. Now I resisted the urge to write my whole rant about the author who wrote a book about farts, so I'll stick to this weird guy. Apparently old mate had discovered this book, complete with sound, and needed to share it with someone immediately, and with my curse, I was in the vicinity.

And this is what pisses me off... Why did I feel the need to be polite? This guy committed a heap of social faux pas in the first 4 seconds of interaction and he hadn't even opened his mouth yet, including...

• Invading personal space
• Interrupting my 'silent reading' time
• Discussing bodily functions
• Obviously not showering for 6+ days.

So resisting the urge to scream 'FUCK OFF, I JUST WANT MY PAD THAI AND TO GO HOME!' I gave in, played his game and did that stupid nasal laugh, you know when you just don't care so you just push some air out of your nose, raise your eyebrows and do a half smile, hoping he'll be embarassed that you couldn't give a shit and piss off? Well that didn't work did it, no that would be too easy, this just encouraged him more, so he pressed the fucking button again and snorted with glee when a different, wetter, longer fart noise came out of the stupid book.

I attempted the same nose-air tactic , but this time I added in the half-turning-my-back-on-him manoeuvre hoping to discourage him from anything further. Again I failed and apparently urged him to continue. This time he kind of half slapped me on the back like we were old chums and asked if I had a lotto ticket for the $90 million. What?

For about five minutes I kept up this polite bullshit and suffered through stifled conversation, the whole time trying to pretend I was reading a book and slowly shuffle away. Throughout this ordeal he continued to follow me around the store, press the fart button and laugh away each time, clearly never tiring of the sound effects. He talked so fast about crap that little white flecks started building up in the corner of his mouth and then when he laughed they would be projected all over the shelf in front of him, thank god I wasn't facing him. Eventually I didn't want to discuss his new backpack anymore or the Nova 937 stickers he found and decided enough is enough. I told him I had to go get my dinner and to have a good night. What I really wanted to do though, was scream "IF MY SPRING ROLLS ARE SOGGY BECAUSE I GOT STUCK TALKING TO YOU, MAY YOU GO BLIND AND DEAF AND NEVER ENJOY A NOVELTY CHILDRENS BOOK EVER AGAIN!" and then genuinely fart in his face and see how funny he thought it was then.

What pissed me off is that everyone else around me fell victim to the whole 'feel sorry for the weirdo because he's lonely and be polite' thing too, I desperately wished someone would step in to my rescue and say 'listen mate, she doesn't care about your friend Timbo and his new shoes, so fuck off.' But no one did, they just gave me that polite crap straight back, they all did that annoying half smile, half shrug with a tilted head that said 'awww, sucks to be you, but there's nothing I can do sorry?' - MY ARSE THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO!! YELL FIRE! ASK ME THE TIME! TELL ME MY FLY IS UNDONE - ANYTHING!! JUST GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF THIS!

So as I walked\ran to my dinner I vowed never to be polite again..

• I will tell my hairdresser, Natishaniqua, or some other made up name for a white kid, that she did a shit job and that she should take her blonde streaks and fake nails back to TAFE.

• I will be that annoying bitch that says 'ah no, I was first thankyou very much', at the Coles deli counter when someone steps in and gets a hot chook before I do, complete with a fake smile.

• I will tell a customer THAT I DON'T GIVE A FUCK when they tell me they are lactose intolerant\gluten free\allergic to salt BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN'T BE EATING AT A PUB THEN SHOULD YOU!!!

• I will punch the idiots in the computer lab at uni in the back of the head when I need a computer for study and they are looking at youtube videos of monkeys rooting goats.

• I will get road rage.

• I will throw the pint of water in the face of someone who has asked for it when they add 'it's for the band' - Oh, right, I'll get out the crystal then shall I?

I swore to myself I would be a rude bitch from then on.

And then on my way home in the car, some guy let me in at the traffic lights and I gave him a courtesy wave. Dammit!