The Contagion of Entitlement

My buds, Len Speaks and Mr. Anonymous from the Deluxe Furnished Barbara Judith Apartments hied ourselves to a movie at the Arclight last evening. This movie, about a breakout of a mysterious disease that takes millions of lives worldwide, but most quickly Gwenyth Paltrow, and Kate Winslet, for purposes of the fictional celebrity fatalities, was, how shall I say it, AWFUL. Entertainment Weekly gave it a B+. Oh, well chacon a son gout as the French are wont to say. Miserable script. It was, as Len Speaks pointed out, a kind of revert to the disaster films of yore. Bet you don't remember "The Swarm"? Kinda like that, only lucky for "Contagion" not quite so bad. And what in the world is happening to us in the time passing department when Matt Damon is the father of a teenager. Matt "Good Will Hunting" teenager is now somewhere close to or in his 40s.  And Jude Law, I still don't know if his character was a good guy or a bad guy. In fact, I did not understand his character at all. But believe it or not, this entry is NOT about this movie, which I shall forget forthwith.

It is about another contagion. My comrades and I entered an empty elevator followed by only two other women. Just us four. My friends were talking to me and I was about to respond, when I realized that I had failed to hear one of the women ask me to hit their floor. I mean, I thought they were talking to each other and not to me. I heard the second "request" if that was what it was, which seemed to be more a remonstration for my, what my dad used to refer to as "lese majeste" (which is very very bad behaviot), failure to have acted promptly on the first edict. I now refocused on them and they were clearly, how shall I put it, put out at my failure. I did not realize I had an obligation in the first place. Had I heard I would have pushed the button, promptly and with an appropriate bow, but I did not. I was unnerved that somehow I had committed some kind of faux pas when the button could easily had been pushed by one of them, and blurted out the apology and explanation. "Oh, I'm sorry, I did not hear you" to a kind of noblesse oblige that they would let it go "this time" attitude. I now cannot remember what exactly they said in reply but it was a kind of "don't worry about it" which implied that there had been an obligation missed and they were kindly not going to banish me from further ventures to the Arclight. Had I been alone, I would have mulled this small event over in my mind, and not been sure whether I was the culprit, an uncivil boor who did not keep her ears wide open for requests for floors. But both my companions were taken aback by the interchange.
I mean, ok, nobody died here, but I agree with Len Speaks, that occasions like this make me feel inclined toward a life of the hermit.

Now, I go all Christian on you, and point out, mostly to myself, that this of course is the opposite of what I must do. I must somehow see Christ behind the mask of these souls out on a Saturday night and expecting the world to be their butlers and maids. I will say this much. Lord, it is very very hard.

I guess the last thing I have to say to my elevator companions who were so very disappointed in me, a stranger who failed to hear "Four please" on the first iteration and to myself as well, "The first shall be last and the last first".

I swear, if I had heard you ladies the first time, I would have immediately pushed the button. But maybe your expectations of others--unreasonable. How's about that?  But alas, not in this world of entitlement. Talk about something that will kill a society.