Being a Sanctimonious Git and Loving It

Don't you just love it when you get the opportunity to act like a sanctimonious bastard?  I know that I do and I got such an opportunity the other day.  So I grasped it with both hands.  To put it all in context, I've discussed here before my dislike of the fact that people here in the UK feel compelled to make comments to complete strangers on matters which don't concern them.  It was one such incident which prompted my outburst of sanctimoniousness.  To cut a long story short, I'm not an obsessive car washer.  Cars are simply machines.  Inanimate objects, the functioning of which is not affected by their state of cleanliness.  Moreover, as I don't have a driveway or garage, I rent a space from the council in a nearby car park.  Said space is beneath a tree which, every spring, sheds its blossom all over my car.  Birds also sit in said tree and shit all over my car during this period.  Consequently, my car is often of less than pristine cleanliness.  Something which doesn't bother me.

But it does, it seems, bother other people.  Particularly people I don't know, who frequently feel compelled to make comments.  Even worse are the ones who just glance at the car, shake their heads and 'tut, tut' under their breaths.  I had a set to with such an idiot in a supermarket car park once.  I'd been enduring stupid comments from strangers all week and his snide attitude was the final straw.  So I asked him in a loud voice: "Excuse me, is it your car?  No?  Then what business is it of yours?  That's right, none!  So fuck off and mind your own business."  He fucked off without further comment, stupid facial expressions or non-verbal noises.  It was this altercation in mind that I approached the latest such incidence, when a visitor to one of my mother's neighbours felt it necessary to make a stupid and unsolicited comment about my car as it stood on my mother's driveway the other Sunday.  He clearly thought he was being both funny and original with his utterly unwelcome and superfluous comments. 

Bearing in mind I wasn't on my home turf and in deference to the sensibilities of both my mother and her neighbour, I decided to try a more moderate approach this time.  So, after fixing him with my best Mr Spock (Leonard Nimoy version, obviously, not Zachary Quinto) inspired quizzical stare, which simultaneously says 'I don't understand a word you are saying' and 'you are clearly a moron', I played the sanctimony card.  "People in the developing world are dying because they have insufficient supplies of clean water, yet in this country, people squander it on inanimate objects."  God, it felt so bloody good to be such a sanctimonious git.  Especially as the target was clearly one of those boring bastards who have nothing better to do with time other than clean their bloody cars every time they get a bit dirty.