The Art of Being Rude

I remember a time when being rude to people, especially complete strangers, was a luxury, something to be used as an absolute last resort. Consequently, when finally employed, rudeness was an art - devastatingly witty put-downs which would completely humiliate their target. Occasionally, in extreme circumstances, down right offensiveness might be deemed permissible - but the number and severity of expletives employed in any such outburst would be kept to a minimum, so as to maximise their impact. Nowadays, of course, everything has changed, and extreme rudeness seems to be the default setting for social interactions in this country. Even doing something as simple as saying 'Excuse me' to someone standing in your way in the aisle as you try to get off a train is greeted by a stream of four-letter abuse. On the roads it is even worse - I once had a complete stranger pull alongside me and call me a 'cunt' because he thought I'd called him a wanker when his car had been coming towards mine in a supermarket car park. The reality was that I'd been talking to a colleague on a hands free kit whilst watching this moron nearly hit another vehicle as he misjudged a corner. Obviously, he wasn't open to reason and continued to threaten me when I attempted to explain this. Consequently, I decided that extreme rudeness was in order, so I again pointed out that whilst I hadn't called him a wanker, I did think that he was an ignorant slap-headed bastard who couldn't drive. With which I sped off.

Not a particularly glorious moment from myself, but illustrative of the problem. With tossers like the guy in the car hurling abuse simply because of something that only happened in their own minds, the temptation is to reply in kind, upping the ante with an even bigger display of rudeness. Satisfying though this might be, it simply perpetuates the problem, as rudeness becomes the norm. In time, this simply results in rudeness losing its impact, thereby requiring even greater escalation of abuse and, ultimately, violence. Personally, I miss the days when rudeness was an art form. When you were finally rude to someone, you could walk away with a certain sense of satisfaction at your wit and boldness. You could also be sure that the other party knew that they'd pushed you beyond all reasonable limits. In those far off days, reserving rudeness for exceptional circumstances meant that we all treated each other with a kind of formal politeness. OK, at times it was obviously forced and completely insincere, but there's no doubt that it did make the everyday process of dealing with the rest of the human race that much more bearable. At least we did communicate at some level. Unlike today, when you live in fear of a tirade of abuse, or worse, in response to even the most innocuous remark, or even look. Sadly, rudeness has gone the same way as swearing - a proud tradition brought low by indiscriminate abuse. Yet more evidence of the rise of the idiots, I fear.