Well. Saturday, I won the stress lottery.
In the last two hours of the day, I had four angry patrons. I've had worse patron interactions. Heck, I've caused worse patron interactions. Much to my own distress. We are our own worst enemies.
It's rare that I'll get two in a day. But four... the odds just seem stacked wrong. Boy, was it exhausting. I'm having a hard time writing more, for fear of overstating the obvious.
So I guess I'm sticking with understatement. I suppose this will become a theme.
Upon arriving home, Ruby told me that she said a lot of uncivil things to a man who nearly drove his car over our daughter. Instead of apologizing, he called her other uncivil things. This is what often what passes for manners in Bay Ridge.
Reading: Door into Summer, by Heinlein. It has a piquant, kind of hard-boiled flavor to it. Sort of short, and sharp, and gritty, and witty. It reminds me of a early short story he wrote that was assigned to me in college, something about moving sidewalks, but more personable. It feels nothing like his later, phantasmagorical-allegorical stuff, like Number of the Beast, or Job.