Matt and I went to the Mariners game last night, courtesy of one of his co-workers who was looking for someone to use her tickets. Normally, we’re up in the nose-bleed section, but this time, instead of climbing higher and higher up the stairs, we were at the second level, below the box seats. What a treat!

But this only meant we got a good view of the fight that broke out on the field after the Rangers’ pitcher nearly hit Mariners player Richie Sexson. All the players ran to the field, bringing me back to those high school days when a fight would break out and attract swarms of people like a magnet (or like me to free boba). I was just appalled. I guess I’ve seen trash-talking during basketball games and those moments when teammates have to hold each other back (again, like high school), but I had never seen a fight break out during a baseball game.

I was so disgusted. People cheered. I booed. If everyone got up and left when fights broke out, maybe the players would feel a degree of shame and realize how immature they were being. You get paid big bucks, you’re a role model, and you really want to go home and tell your kid that you started a fight at work?

Granted, there was some underhanded animosity on both sides, but who would be the bigger man?

I was talking to a co-worker (a big baseball fan) at work, describing the situation and my reaction to it. His response? “We have a word for that in our household: Girls.”

But as much as I could judge the guy who throws the first punch, I realize that many times, I want to strike a blow–maybe not physically, but verbally.

Take for example the clerk at Safeway last week. She accidentally rang up my box of cereal with the items belonging to the woman in front of me. The box of cereal was at that point of the checkout counter that was hidden behind the checkout machine, and I wasn’t peering down the conveyor belt to see what was being rung up–and neither was the woman paying for everything.

The woman finally noticed she was about to pay for a box of cereal that wasn’t hers, so she mentioned it to the clerk. The clerk had to take it off the receipt, so the woman apologized. The clerk said, “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” They both looked at me.

Whatever, women!! It wasn’t my fault, either. If I’m putting my items onto the conveyor belt at one end, am I supposed to be watching the items on the OTHER end, too? I didn’t apologize. A few more times, the women went back and forth about how it wasn’t the other person’s fault. I ignored them.

When it was finally my turn to get my stuff rung up, the clerk was pointedly rude to me. I know everyone has their bad days, but I had just overheard several minutes of friendly chattiness between her and the previous customer? I decided to let it go, but at the very end, I noticed that she didn’t even bother bagging some of my groceries. She bagged most of them, but she just left the last bag sitting UNDER my items. The items weren’t even half-sitting in the bag–they were right on top of the bag. So I reached over the counter where you sign checks and stuff and bagged them myself. She saw me, and she stood there watching me reach over. Finally when I was done and had put that final bag in my cart, she handed me the receipt.

Ooohh, I wanted to have words with her (and not nice ones, to be clear). Of course, I never think of things to say until after I walk away. And it’s not like I’m expecting to be served. If the clerk looks busy, I’ll bag my own groceries. I don’t have a problem with that. But if she has bagged most of them, and then just leaves the items on top of a bag and watches me bag them–that’s not normal.

I know I tend to complain a lot about customer service or treatment from other people, but it’s mostly when I see a difference in behaviors of how the other person treats someone else and then how they treat me. If I see them being consistently rude, I think, “Man, they’re rude! They must be having a sour day.” But if it’s like “smile, smile, smile, frown” (to me), I get really irked by that. And it’s not just toward me. I see how people in stores treat other people who look like they don’t have money or they may smell. I get the same treatment when I’m in sweats and a frumpy sweater. It’s not right.

So anyway, my point of it all was that I may not be like Richie Sexson, to outright let my anger and frustrations out in a physical way. But I can certainly understand the emotions leading him to respond that way. And if my thought process was quicker, I’d probably be letting loose some verbal cannons, too.