Yeah? Well, if Everyone Was Like YOU, This Place Would Suck.

Siiigghhhhh. People. Without them, where would we be?

The problem is: an inordinate percentage of people are dopes. The rest of us expend too much energy circumventing their dopiness.
If you're already offended by this post, chance is: you're a dope, too.
Before I continue, I must admit every once in a long while I am schooled by a dope. Here is my recollection of the last time it happened: 

        6th grade: I tell the dope in front of me  - a fellow 6th grader – I am grossed out by the way he touches his lips to the rim of the water fountain.
        He responds: "It's only gross if you do it, too."

S*$t. He was right. Since then, for my own safety, I let fountains spurt for a few seconds, expelling any 6th grade cooties which may lie on the rim.
But, other than that incident, I try to steer clear of dopes. Here are a few rules we non-dopes would like obeyed (I only hope my readership is comprised of a significant number of dopes lest this column effect real change):

THE LEFT LANE IS FOR PASSING: When on a two-or-more lane highway, the left-most lane is for passing only. It doesn't matter what the speed limit is; if you are NOT passing someone, move over. Yes, the boob tailgating you is a dangerous driver and a menace to society; let law enforcement deal with him. You…move over.

Photo Credit
INDICATE YOUR INTENTION TO TURN: Since we're on the topic of "Rules of the Road": your car is equipped with indicators for a reason. Use them. If your little flicker is flicking (why did I just think of my son peeing on the floor?) the person behind will pull up next to you instead of behind you; the person coming in the opposite direction may adjust their trajectory. You will not be the pea under somebody's mattress adding to their frustrating day which, up until that point, had culminated with them having to deal with their booby boss. 

DON'T PARK YOUR SHOPPING CART IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AISLE: For the love of Pete, haven't you noticed the configuration of the grocery store? The aisle is specifically only wide enough for your cart to pass my cart, heading in opposite directions. When you push yours down the middle, and then leave it there while searching for Panko, I have to move it out of the way while speeding to the peanut butter which hasn't moved since 1987.

DO NOT BRING YOUR DOUBLE-WIDE STROLLER INTO A RETAIL ESTABLISHMENT: Unless it's a market in an airplane hanger, double-wide strollers just don't fit. They don't corner. They prevent you from seeing what's coming (namely my kneecaps). I know you have two kids, I also have two kids. They can be a handful. As long as they're not a handful surround by 8 square feet of canvas, aluminum and plastic, we'll all get along. (For the record: double-long strollers are fine. Why? They allow other citizens on the planet enough room to walk around them.)

DON'T REACH OVER MY KID AT THE BUFFET: O.K., this one sort of comes out of nowhere, but since this is my blog, I'll address this directly to those couple of people who reached through my child's head to reach a mass-produced dessert rather than give the little guy two more minutes to choose between noodles or chicken. Shame on you. 

NO WHISTLING IN ELEVATORS: File this under: don't make abstract noises for the purpose of drawing attention to yourself. I.e.: whistling, humming, and tapping. I know, my tone is becoming increasingly scrooge-like. But, as a parent of young kids, there are so few moments of absolute silence I would really enjoy a ride from the first to the third floor without your halitosic version of ''The Greatest Love of All''.

TURN YOUR CELL PHONE OFF IN THE CINEMA!!!!: I can't believe we're still talking about this. Here's the deal: don't answer it – even if you're whispering…I can still hear you, I'm right over here!! Don't check the time, it's a flashlight!!! In a movie theatre!!! Movies are a sacred place: depressed people are escaping, content people are relaxing, stressed people are forgetting their days, parents are forgetting their kids. And there you are, you backlight-chat-app-text-talk-messaging-downloading addict, ruining it. You're subtracting from my pleasurable escapism, disturbing my slumber, waking me from my dream; you're killing my buzz, dude.

Wow. That felt good. I think this should become a regular cleansing. Tell you what; let's meet every six months, Dear Reader. We can call it ''The Straight Dope'' or some other cute name. We can establish awards: The Dopies. We can hold the ceremony in some fancy venue with terrycloth in the washrooms, and bacteria infesting the water fountain.
Nominees now accepted…