The Three A-Hole Rule
My friend Pumpkin Spice Latte and I were chatting one day at the farmers market when some guy carrying too many acorn squash bumped into me while walking past.
“What an A-hole!” I exclaimed, after he’d gone — The guy didn’t even say sorry or acknowledge he’d bumped into me or anything! Sheesh.
Pumpkin and I proceeded down the aisle of locally-grown, organic, high-vibration foodstuffs and came to my favorite egg guy’s stand. “Hey there, where are your blue eggs today?” I asked, nicely enough, I thought.
“Just what you see,” the egg man said.
I purchased a dozen of his boring old brown and white eggs, with a transactional yet I thought friendly-ish demeanor, and we walked on down the line of stalls.
“Sheesh!” I said to Pumpkin, “I’ve been buying eggs from that dude every fricking week for like, fifteen years — did you hear how short he was with me? ‘Just what you see,’ What an A-hole!”
“I dunno, maybe he just felt bad he didn’t have your blue eggs.”
“No, the way he said it — he was messing with me on purpose. I don’t know what I did to deserve attitude. Sigh.”
Pumpkin: “I believe you feel slighted by the egg man but I’m not sure he is the source of that feeling.”
Me: “Look, pies!!!”
Pumpkin: “Are those good?”
Me (to Pumpkin): “They are very good, plus local, organic, homemade, all the things. Let’s stop here.”
We stopped and waited to be served. And waited. I conspicuously took out a 20 and held it in my hand, grabbed a pie, and stood there while other people were served ahead of us. Some of them possibly arriving after us, which was cool because it was Saturday and I was cool and Pumpkin was cool and it’s all community and cool and everything. Like, all good, all love.
After a while of being cool I broke down and served up my aggressively friendly smile to the pie woman, who came over, took my money, made change, and asked if I needed a bag.
“Yes that would be great,” I said. She came back and gave me a bag, then turned to help other customers. She didn’t take the pie I was holding and put it in the bag, she just thanked me — perfunctorily — and moved on. “What an asshole!” I thought.
I turned to Pumpkin Spice Latte, eyes rolling, lifting the flaccid bag in one hand, organic pie in the other, satchels of produce balanced at my feet, and said, “WTF, thanks/no thanks for helping me bag my pie, Lady. What an A-hole!”
And Pumpkin said, “You know, Sascha, there is a truism that may be pertinent here. It says that in a day, if you encounter one asshole, it is what it is, two assholes, perhaps so, but if you encounter three assholes in one day, then the asshole is you.”
And so, this three-asshole rule has served me well, dear reader, and I hope it helps you too. These days I don’t even need to wait for three assholes to notice that if I’m annoyed or affronted by even one other person it’s probably a good time to work on my own self-mastery, mood management, perspective shifting, or whatever you want to call it. Just get in there and say, “Hello, my little inner grouchy-pants! What do you need to feel better right now?”
A walk, a deep breath, a sandwich, a headstand, a weep, a nap, a prayer, a something. Walking around with a loaded brain of assaholic thinking not good for myself or others. So I take care of de-assholing myself first. And then, miraculously, the people around me start seeming so much better. I’m gonna keep going.
www.livingeveryminuteofit.com
