Pure, Blissful Rage

Have you ever caught a glimpse of a baby or a small child in the midst of a full blown, screaming, crying, tantrum in the middle of a grocery store, mother standing by in hopeless surrender of the inevitable? For some reason when I see them in the midst of their open mouthed, not so silent protest, I have to smile at them. Not that I find joy in their apparent misfortune of being deprived their freedom from the grocery cart, chocolate, or nap.
Firstly, I smile because I love the flagrant disregard of children for what is socially appropriate. While everyone else is exchanging pleasantries, there is a 2 foot 5 inch ball of pure rage who demands to be acknowledged. Sometimes I wish we were all like that. What if every time the person in front of me took the last pretzel roll, I burst into angry tears and unleashed my pure, raw emotion? Or the next time someone criticized my bagging technique, or demanded triple plastic with double paper, with one item per bag, I screamed bloody hell? Bottling emotion would be no more.
The second thing I love is that whenever I catch the eye of an unhappy darling, I raise my eyebrows and smile at them, almost as if to say "...Really? Is this really something to be upset about?" Almost inevitable, they hold my gaze and stop screaming long enough to try and figure out why I dare to smile in the midst of their meltdown. It's almost as if they cannot fathom why I am not buying the pity party. Then as quickly as the peace comes, it departs again. The child's mouth parts and he gives a half- hearted howl, as if to make it clear to me how truly upset he is, and I walk away, still smiling.

Baguette Blunderings

Hello, my name is Maureen, or Mimi.....and I am addicting to watching people. It has been 5 hrs since my last relapse, and I am not afraid to admit it. Today I fell into the temptation while at Panera. Somewhere inbetween the baguettes and trendy/classical backround music people lose their society facade and become rediculously see-through. Ok, ok, as my Mom is constantly reminding me..."Maureen, for someone who doesn't like to be put in a box or stuck in a category, you tend to do that very thing to other people". I understand, and I try not to, but who can help their first impression?
Take that woman over there..no not that one, THAT one...My 10 o' clock your 8. Ill-fitting cropped pants stretched over a post-menopause bottom, grey hair fast approaching white. She talking on her cell phone to an insurance man about another insurance man who rejected her claim; the claim she is making for her son who got into an accident. The way she calls the man on the phone "Sir" and says "Yes" instead of "Yeah" to me shows that she is polite, and not willing abuse the middle man when she is angry with and wants to stick it to "the Man". Her defensive attitude and her tone when she talks about her son, who I can gather is no longer 16...or 26 for that matter, suggests a rather controlling attitude for her son and perhaps his laziness in growing up. After all, why isn't he in here pursing the heartless insurance man?
Oh look who just walking in- living breathing, drama and attitude in the form of 3 13 yr olds. Lovely age. Innocence in it's finest...look at how cute, a boy and two girls, eating and talking about...uh...dating and cheating? Well, that was unexpected....and..Oh that's nice, the sweet little girl in the mini skirt just gave the boy the finger. So much for innocent.
Then there's the blonde mother and her blonde daughter, discussing wedding plans with such a strong, Buffalo accent that makes me smile...in a materialistic way that makes me wince. And of course, how could I forget the elderly couple who watch their surrounding's quietly and drink their coffee. Top it off with a self announced, 30 yr old hippie out to convert people and spread his happiness and "high on life" and you've got yourself 4 hrs of distracted "work" and successful people watching.
Sometimes I wonder if people realize that they are not all that hard to read if you really look carefully. But then again...what would someone deduce from me, watching me for a mere 15 minutes in a public place? What sort of depth can you really get on someone from just watching them. Do we understand more that we think we do, or do we think we understand...and really we are just making shallow assumptions based on appearances?
Who knows. Actually...I think that's it. I think I just answered my own question. No one really knows, that's who. At the end of the day, all I have really done is observe and extrapolate what I have seen a thousand times over to make deductions without ever knowing the fact. Which is exactly what my psychology professor advised up NEVER to do. I guess it's a good thing this isn't an assignment, simply a blog thrown into the abyss.