Parents these days. They are really starting to bother me. I don't know if it's always been this way, but I really don't like the fact that parents today seem to think that if they they're in public with their children, they don't have to play by the same social codes and use the same manners as the rest of us. It's as if the day you manage to squeeze out your own kin, you suddenly don't need to bother with manners and respect anymore. I witness this pattern of behavior on a fairly regular basis, since I work in a restaurant that has the misfortune of attracting many parents and their children. I also live in Portland, a city full of new parents just getting used to the phenomenon that is family. So this week I'm all about discussing parents and their lack of manners, and their self-entitlement craze.
As a policy, my restaurant does not let strangers use our restroom. We're a pretty new private business, and it costs a lot to repair a bathroom if some idiot decides to mess with it. So when strangers ask to use our bathroom, we ask that they buy a soda, a water, or a cookie, each of which cost about a dollar. Many people ask to use our restroom for free, and when we explain our policy, about half of the people leave looking pissed off, and the other half buy something. But new mommies come in all the time, with a grubby, chocolate covered little kid, and throw that young child into our bathroom, unattended, without asking for our permission first! And then, while waiting for their kid to destroy our bathroom, they proceed to ask for free water, and not buy a thing. They don't ask to use the bathroom, and they don't check on their children after they've used the bathroom, but they do ask for extra ice in their free water sometimes, without the slightest regard to the fact that they are completely mooching off of us, and have no intention of coming back in the future to order some food or drinks. Am I wrong, or is this selfish and rude?
And yes folks, us servers are constantly, casually observing and judging you, and this is because we listen in on your conversations. As servers, we're trained to hear things like 'I need more of this,' or 'he never brought my ketchup,' in order to do our job more effectively. So if you want to privately share your intimate secrets with a close friend or confidante while in a restaurant, I suggest that you pass notes back and forth, as though you are children in a study hall. Otherwise, be forewarned: Your server does hear all those strange sexual details you're relating about that person you met at the bar last night.
I think the pinnacles of self-entitled parents are the new moms and dads who are obsessed with trimming off the weight that they've put on as they've aged. It's about time that I rant about 'the jogging community' here in Portland. Now don't get me wrong, I love me some exercise, I'm actually pretty neurotic about getting exercise seven days a week, but how is it that street joggers think that cars should stop amid a green-lit intersection in order to let them continue the constant progress of their painfully slow jog? Just because you are wearing hideous and obnoxiously matching workout clothes, special sunglasses, and waving your arms faster than your legs while you attempt to raise your pulse does not give you the authority to bypass the local and state traffic laws. Wait for your cross walk sign like every other car waits at a red light, and enjoy your post jog triple iced mocha with heavy cream'which is full of carbs and has as many calories as a full meal.
I also have a problem with parents who jog with those humungous baby carts in front of them. I often see parents in Portland barreling down a narrow street, trying to keep up with cars, and they are using a giant neon shield composed of plastic, as well as their own children to protect themselves from harm! The worst part is that they will challenge my car as I head towards them down a narrow street with room for one car at a time, as though we were involved in an intense game of chicken. People with baby carts: You are flesh and plastic, and I am in a car made of steel; I don't think we need to play the game to know that I will win if I hit you. The very fact that you could cause harm to your children to win a pissing contest is deplorable. This causes me to wonder if you would also use your child as a shield if intruded upon by an armed burglar? Getting rid of your mid forties beer gut at the expense of losing your child is a good sign that you are officially part of the subculture that you probably hate and make fun of: the yuppies.
But let's be fair, if I'm going to rant about traffic conditions in Portland, I should comment on the gigantic bicycling community that exists here, because I am an equal opportunity ranter, and I can see many sides and plights; and 'bikers', your plight is just as whiny and pathetic as that of the parent jogger community; you've self-aggrandized your cause beyond all rationale! The biggest complaint that I have with you 'bikers' is that you all pretend to be on this whole 'let's share the road campaign', yet none of you are ever willing to share the road with cars or pedestrians, you just want everyone else to move over and get out of the way for you; just like parents who jog with kid carts. I therefore cringe when I'm driving and see a car or bicycle that has a 'share the road' sticker. Roads are public domain, so it's impossible, as a tax-paying citizen, to not share the road'we all pay for roads and their upkeep with our taxes. But you bikers are not even remotely 'sharing the road,' as you constantly run stop signs, cut people off, and act as though you are half pedestrian, half car, opting to play the role that suits you best at any given point of your commute. That's about as lame as bay area baseball fans who wear dual A's & Giants hats when these teams play each other. You gotta pick a side.
If I'm forced to pick a side, it's pretty damn obvious to me that I'm a car freak. I own a bike, a skateboard, and I love to walk, but after a summer of living out of my car, I'm quite attached to the automobile. Now I'm atypical in so far as I love cars, but don't care at all about their engine size or appearance, only the comfort of the inside. How many cup holders are there? Are they placed conveniently for various sized beverages? Is there a shelf or ledge that I can safely place my cell phone on while I drive? How about a change drawer? These are my auto-concerns. Don't waste my time with V-6 this, or 320 HP that ' if it can get me from A to B, and in comfort, then it's a fine automobile.
There's a lot to love about living out of your car, by the way. Like I love when my friends keep too much change in their pockets, and due to the slight angle of my passenger seats, they end up leaving loose change in my car seats. I like when this happens, because it's like a secret tax on them for leaving their trash in my car, and for their failure to offer in helping me to pay for gas, insurance, smog checks, and oil changes. Hey, it costs a lot to drive these days! And yes, it is ironic to bitch about my hatred of self-entitlement, and yet feel entitled to taking my friends' pocket change**.
So I guess this column came about from a desire to satiate my concern for my newly wed friends. I feel it's only fair to warn them of the impending dangers of becoming a parent, since one of my best friends from college already has one child, and the rest of my crew are falling like dominoes, throwing away their precious twenty something freedoms for love, commitment, and responsibility; and I can only fear that the next, and final step on their road to ruination is to stop using contraceptives, and finally let DNA do it's trick.
But to be fair, even though I don't have a steady girlfriend, or any children, I could be turning into a 'parent' in my own way. I often make my decisions with concern to my personal finances, and this seems like a very 'parent thing' to do. For example, I used to be a semi-professional musician, meaning that I kind of, almost, sort of, came close to making a really poor living as a musician for two years. But these days, I find irony in my 'financial versus pleasure' decision-making process. As a musician, I should support any and all musical efforts with both my attendance, and my wallet. But these days, when one of my favorite bands comes to town to play a show, I usually don't end up going because my wallet dictates otherwise. This begs the question; am I cheap, or is it really 'outrageous' for bands to charge upwards of forty dollars for their shows? 'Dear Favorite Band, I own your new record; your timeless, final, refined and revised effort to capture the magic and essence of your most recent creative efforts, so why should I pay nearly twice the cost of that record to see you live, but drunk and too high to play at your normal capability, and then end up working for hours on end to pay to witness this?'
Personally, as a dude, if I'm ever 'blessed' with a baby daughter, I hope that my friends will remember this column, and give me the 'dad-who-has-a-daughter' gift that keeps on giving: a double-barreled shotgun. It just seems appropriate, that if I am ever required to raise a girl in this society of, uh, men, that I need a shotgun to best protect her from all the ills of society; like every single man on earth who wants to use my daughter to please himself. I don't know how men can grow up, having male friends, and knowing how men think and talk, and then have a daughter and not freak out about their daughter's future and safety. And another thing I plan on doing if I have kids is to throw a party for my kid's actual birthday'their day of birth. I think it's ridiculous that here in America, we don't throw a party for newborn babies. It is customary here to wait until children are one year old, to celebrate their 'first birthday,' but this is a misnomer, and makes no sense, since the only true birthday that you ever have, is your actual day of birth.
Maybe I should go easy on parents, after all, I can't imagine my life full of children: being a parent could really suck, you suffer regularly from lack of sleep, an increase in cost of living, lack of sex, and for women, all that breast feeding; it must be these things that cause new parents to lose their minds'and their manners. And as far as sharing roads and safe driving habits go, the hypocrite of the week award goes to none other than me, for almost crashing my car (several times) while attempting to write down most of this week's ideas as I tried to drive and write all at once. And my handwriting was so bad as I tried to do this that I ended up being unable to read a lot of my notes, which means that I lost some pretty clever jokes and observations forever. But hey, I didn't crash my car, and I'm still batting .000 when it comes to conception'and that's an average that keeps me sleeping like a baby at night'even when I'm sleeping in my car.