2008 Woodie Awards
Me? A grown-up? On adulthood
Issue date: 4/24/08
Adult life is approaching. I can feel it. It's been presenting itself in various ways lately, from my mom prodding me about what I'm going to do after graduation to the cartoons editor at the News-Letter reminding me that my column for this week is both overdue and my last one ever.
The most recent evidence of my pending (and, might I add, uninvited) adulthood, however, is both more pathetic and - I think - more impressive than any of the previous evidence. I began turning into my father.
This demands some explanation. My dad has an Israeli accent and a disinclination towards listening to others.
In consumer situations, he turns into the Hulk. Whether he's buying a car or a loaf of bread, my dad approaches everyone with an attitude of suspicion and confrontation. I have seen him buy a gallon of milk at the supermarket, and upon seeing the price appear on the cash register screen say to the clerk, "No, no, it should be lower."
He was not implying that there had been some sort of error in ringing up his item - he was implying that the 16-year-old making minimum wage behind the register could and should lower the price of his gallon of milk.
Frankly, it's not my dad's fault. It's in his genes. I once saw my grandfather stand on top of a luggage cart in a hotel lobby, yelling - literally foaming at the mouth - because he felt that the bellboys were not attending to him in a timely manner. Given this lineage, harassing cashiers is an improvement.
I've spent my whole life trying not to be Consumer Hulk Jr. I've always thought that fair commerce could be accomplished without abandoning civility, kindness and understanding for the position of a fellow human being.
Perhaps it was easy for me to feel this way, knowing that I could always call on my dad to come in and play the bad cop. The mark of my childhood was that I could be a nice person, and still get a discount on my cell phone.
My innocence ended this week.
The most recent evidence of my pending (and, might I add, uninvited) adulthood, however, is both more pathetic and - I think - more impressive than any of the previous evidence. I began turning into my father.
This demands some explanation. My dad has an Israeli accent and a disinclination towards listening to others.
In consumer situations, he turns into the Hulk. Whether he's buying a car or a loaf of bread, my dad approaches everyone with an attitude of suspicion and confrontation. I have seen him buy a gallon of milk at the supermarket, and upon seeing the price appear on the cash register screen say to the clerk, "No, no, it should be lower."
He was not implying that there had been some sort of error in ringing up his item - he was implying that the 16-year-old making minimum wage behind the register could and should lower the price of his gallon of milk.
Frankly, it's not my dad's fault. It's in his genes. I once saw my grandfather stand on top of a luggage cart in a hotel lobby, yelling - literally foaming at the mouth - because he felt that the bellboys were not attending to him in a timely manner. Given this lineage, harassing cashiers is an improvement.
I've spent my whole life trying not to be Consumer Hulk Jr. I've always thought that fair commerce could be accomplished without abandoning civility, kindness and understanding for the position of a fellow human being.
Perhaps it was easy for me to feel this way, knowing that I could always call on my dad to come in and play the bad cop. The mark of my childhood was that I could be a nice person, and still get a discount on my cell phone.
My innocence ended this week.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
Eliza
posted 5/26/08 @ 6:14 PM EST
That was quite funny. I know the feeling of suddenly realizing that you?re turning into your parents. Question: can I please not grow up? I?m quite happy as I am. (Continued…)
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