What the? Wednesdays

Today I have a real beef. No, not a hunk 'o man (sorry Kealie and Megan). Nope, I have a complaint.

Why?

I happened to be at my local super center (because we have no small grocers anymore) and walked down the soda aisle (pop for those heathens who call it that). As I'm walking along, I notice this older lady struggling with a 12 pack of soda. All she wanted to do was get the carton out of the display and into her cart.

Ok... so now you're wondering why I'm pissy... I'm getting there.

The lady, who I am assuming was around seventy years young, tugged and tugged (get your mind out of the gutter--this is a serious complaint) on the carton to no avail.

Do you think, honestly, that anyone bothered to stop and help her?

No.

At least four or five citizens strolled past, rubbernecking as they continued down the aisle.

You may be thinking, then why didn't you do something?

I was at the end of the aisle, starting down said aisle. When I got to her position, I stopped my cart and asked her if she needed help. Startled, (I'd like to think it was that she was genuinely shocked that someone stopped, but it could've been that I had a vampire shirt on....who knows?), she nodded. I smiled, put the carton she wanted in her cart, and went back to my own cart.

"Can I give you a dollar?"

Now it was my turn to be shocked. "It was my pleasure to help. You have a good day."

I think her jaw was still on the ground when I turned the corner.

So what's my beef?

It's two-fold. One--NO ONE BOTHERED TO HELP HER! Do we live in a society where we are immune to helping our elders? Or are we too lazy to think outside our bubble and see someone besides ourselves? And Two--Are we, as a society, that greedy that we expect payment for doing a GOOD DEED?

Yes, I am part of a generation who believes--wrongly--that we are entitled. Yes, we think we deserve everything our folks worked for RIGHT NOW!!! And when we don't get it, we get it on credit and hope we can afford to eat later.

Sad.

I'm not totally sure if I'm Gen X or Gen Y...hell, we could be the fucked up Gen XY-ers for all I know. (and yeah, if you were a young adult in the '90's--you were screwed up, sorry, but we all were, and no, there isn't therapy for it unless you count just plain growing up...)

Oh good gravy I've gotten high on my soapbox. Better get down. People might start to talk... Ok, well they probably have and it really doesn't bother me, but oh well. Call me a bad influence. Not that it hasn't been stated before.