Assumption of Entitlement Is Not Endearing 

Laurie Cohn

Mirror Contributing Writer

   What is this sense of entitlement everyone has? It’s not endearing, and I’m really getting tired of it. You are not entitled to anything in this life except death and taxes. Anything additional you’re lucky enough to receive is a blessing, not your God-given right. If I’m crossing the street at a crosswalk, you don’t have the right to almost hit me with your car because you’re in a hurry. This is Santa Monica, not New York. If I’m in line somewhere, you don’t have permission to go ahead of me. This is Santa Monica, where we wait in orderly lines, not India where everything is higgledy-piggledy. 
   Don’t you remember as a youngster being taught some basic rules about sharing, manners, and waiting your turn? Those rules remain applicable throughout your life. I’m an impatient person by nature, but I’m still not going to do something inconsiderate, and ignore the fact that my actions affect others, but I seem to be in the ever-shrinking minority these days. 
   Examples? You want examples? I’ve got examples up the yin-yang. 
   In the Speedo store recently in Santa Monica Place the saleslady was on the phone answering questions as I brought my purchase to the counter. I have never quite understood how a salesperson can be more helpful to the customer on the phone than the person who went to the trouble of coming into the store, but I’ll skip that for now. I was waiting for, let’s call her Buffy, to get off the phone, item on the counter, credit card in my hand. Some guy saunters up to the counter next to me, and when Buffy got off the phone she said “I don’t know who was next.” The guy tried to go ahead of me! I was clearly there before he was, waiting. I looked at him, and said firmly but kindly, “I was next.” “Sorry,” he said, as he wandered off to peruse additional items. What chutzpah!
   My mother, a woman with five planets in Leo and no shy bones in her body, had an interesting encounter recently. At Wild Oats on Wilshire, she went to the checkout, where there was a basket but no person. My mom went around the basket, and the cashier began to ring her up. The owner of the basket, a woman thirty years younger than my mom, came back and said loudly, “I guess it’s dog eat dog around here.” 
   My mother, suffering from an intense migraine, looked at her and in a haughty (but not nasty) voice said, “Madam, if you had been here you would have been next.” The young woman kept quiet and looked away. 
   More? I was on my bike last Saturday morning, enjoying the beautiful day, heading south on Main. The light was green at Pico, and I continued pedaling through the intersection. Well, there was a bike rider coming the opposite way, making a left turn, and he didn’t see me until it was almost too late. I kept cycling and he yelled at me. HE YELLED AT ME!! I wasn’t the one at fault. I screamed back as I continued on Main, because sometimes I think it’s my job to set some of these arrogant people straight. “Right of way, asshole,” I called out. Sure, they weren’t the most eloquent words I ever uttered, but sometimes being polite doesn’t work. He didn’t reply, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll think twice before accusing someone when he’s the guilty party. 
   And what makes people think it’s okay to speak loudly on their balconies at 2:00 am? Most people, even on the weekends, are sleeping at that time, the city is still, and voices carry. Just because you’re a late-night person, doesn’t mean the many people living within hearing distance are. Try to have a tad of consideration. Santa Monica is not your island-- we all share it. There are times I can’t sleep, and would love to blast Led Zeppelin, but I don’t. Why? Because I don’t want to disturb my neighbors. Call me crazy, but that’s how I feel. 
   To reiterate, you are not entitled to do whatever you want whenever you want. There are other people in the world besides you. Maybe there are some occasional exemptions from proper rules of conduct. Legitimate exceptions: You’ve cured a major disease; You’ve brokered peace in the Middle East or Northern Ireland; You’re George Clooney. 
  Non-exceptions: You drive a $50,000- plus car; You’ve got big boobs; You’re running late; You’re a junior executive. 
   If you’re not in the exception category, get to the back of the line, wait your turn, and think about others for a change. It probably won’t kill you.
Happy birthday mommy.