I think it started when I pulled in a little too fast into the
dimly lit parking space late one night at the Gilroy Outlets.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the woman sitting in the
older-model SUV next to me snap her head to see what had just
rocketed into the spot to her left.
I think it started when I pulled in a little too fast into the dimly lit parking space late one night at the Gilroy Outlets.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the woman sitting in the older-model SUV next to me snap her head to see what had just rocketed into the spot to her left.
In my haste to get into the store before they closed, I didn’t gauge the most commensurate distance between the two white lines.
After collecting the skirt I wanted to exchange, my purse, a legion of empty coffee cups and some other miscellaneous garbage that is always floating around my less-than immaculate car, I exited my vehicle to a cacophony of expletives and shrieks.
I had accidentally opened my car door into the side of her car. Oops.
I’m sure everyone out there has done this at least once or twice. But in my defense, it really was a light tap – it didn’t leave any mark or dent, and I immediately apologized for my parking-space faux paux.
But to the woman next to me, I might as well have slapped her across the face, run over her dog, cussed out her grandmother and hit on her boyfriend all at the same time.
The words that came out of her mouth and the level of hysteria with which they were screeched caught me off guard, and for a moment I wasn’t sure if she was having a seizure or just really pissed off.
After she told me what to do, where to go and exactly how to get there, I walked in somewhat of a daze into the store, sheepishly exchanged my item and hurriedly got back to my car – all the while praying she hadn’t keyed it or bashed in a window just to make sure she got her point across.
On the drive home I started thinking about her outburst, and wondering if she was truly warranted in reaming me a new one, and if she was, what’s the statute when it comes to swearing?
When using improper language, are there certain situations where it’s OK to demolish verbal inhibitions and let it all hang out… and if so, to what level can you take it and what are the consequences and connotations of being a potty mouth?
I can’t speak for anyone else, but as far as my language is concerned, different social settings usually determine what comes out of my mouth.
First and foremost, I don’t care how upset I am or how much I want to let rip a slew of proverbial garbage, there’s no swearing in front of children under 12.
People who rant and rave and carry on using foul language in front of children just seem evil. I know kids swear – I can cuss like a sailor when I want to, and to this day some of my best material was learned in grammar school – but it doesn’t mean adults have to proliferate it to impressionable minds.
The workplace is a setting where sometimes the line is blurred. In my line of work, people are allowed to be a little more free with their language (especially if you forget to save and the server shuts down and you have to write a story all over again – at that point it’s a foul-mouthed free-for-all).
But in many workplaces, especially when you’re dealing with the public, it’s usually frowned upon.
I’ve heard it said that bad language is a sign of ignorance, and intelligent people can express themselves without having to resort to it.
I personally don’t believe that, no matter how many times Mom says it’s true, but many facets of the population do think that way, and if you’re serving them it’s probably better to tone it down.
Other places it doesn’t matter so much. In college when I worked at a bar, even though I worked up close and personal with the public at all times, I could say whatever I wanted (and usually did) and it never mattered because everyone in the place was drunk.
Speaking of less-formal social settings, such as bars or parties, swearing is pretty much commonplace.
In a society where more and more swear words are used in prime time television, whether you’re male or female, young or old, a hell here and a bitch there are considered tame and nothing to bat an eyelash at.
Of course, bad language is still considered “bad” for a reason. A lady that cusses isn’t a lady, and a man isn’t fit for bringing home to Mom if he’s going to talk trash.
But when some idiot bangs her door into the side of your car because she drove like a bat out of hell into the space next to you, it feels damn good to tell her to f*#@ off.
