Domesticated or civilized?
Let me start by saying that I don’t know who said it first, but I once read that the difference between a civilized man and a domesticated man is that a civilized man has savage urges but controls them while the domesticated man doesn’t have those urges in the first place.
This old memory surfaced after buying gasoline the other night. At the station I was using, customers need to pay at an outside window. What happened involves a truck that pulled up to that window while I was pumping gas.
The man driving the truck bought some cigarettes and stepped back into his truck; he sat there with the door open. I noticed a sticker on the truck that said, “Got MILF?” I thought that sticker showed a total lack of class, but would rather not say how I know what MILF means.
The guy in the truck looked like a real looser and his female passenger looked dopey, strung-out and was dressed like a tramp. She jumped out of the truck and got into line as I was filling my tank; when I got into line, she was immediately in front of me.
I didn’t really care about them or what they were doing until the young woman started haggling with the cashier about how much cash they’d let her get from her debit card. I was getting a little impatient and I guess the fellow saw this and he gave me a funny look but turned away when we made eye contact.
For the most part I didn’t really care, but a very small part of me wanted him to ask me what I was looking at; whenever I’ve been asked this question I’ve answered with rude, brutal honesty. After being told no by the cashier for the third time, the young woman climbed back into the truck and they left.
Here’s what bothered me:
I don’t think it’s right, but there was a period in my life where I would have asked the woman, in front of her boyfriend, if she charged him by the hour or if she had a day rate just to relieve the monotony of waiting in line with a fight.
I thought that getting married and getting a little longer in the tooth had civilized me a bit, but the truth is that night, I only wanted them to leave so I could pay for my fuel and head home.
I guess I’ve actually become domesticated.