Infestation of the rude

Like cicadas, this week a swarm has invaded a certain upscale Montgomery County suburb which will remain nameless.

Rude people.

(Right now I really regret that decision to clean up the language on this blog “so I sound less like a character in a Guy Ritchie movie,” as I once put it.

What the $%%^& was I thinking?)

Every so often you’d encounter a few rude people – the Capitalist Tools in Lexus SUVs who don’t yield for pedestrians, the ones who hold up the Starbucks line because they’re making sure their precious snowflake’s double-whip cappuccino contains milk made of soy (as opposed to plebian cow).

But generally, just like any neighborhood, people here in the suburb just northwest of Chevy Chase are generally good. Generally decent people working, shopping, hanging out by the little park and fountain with their dogs and kids.

But not this week.

So I’m walking to CVS in this Montgomery County suburb southeast of Rockville. I cut through the shrubs out front – where a little dirt path has been make by hundreds before me – and I trip over some big wood or rock outcropping. I completely bite it, falling flat on my face with my arms and legs sprawling. Hard enough to draw a bit of blood and a bruise. And yes, I was cussing like a Guy Ritchie character.

Out of seven people within a 20 foot radius, not one stops to help. Okay, we’re all busy, I understand. Helping others, particularly anyone in a state of weakness, is very old-school.

But not one even assuages their guilt with a grudging “Hey, you okay?” over their shoulder. In fact, two of the bystanders are laughing at me…and not even bothering to hide it when they see me notice their laughter.

Lesson here: If you are a clutz, accident-prone or just planning on randomly falling over this week, take that baggage to Silver Spring. Or Kensington. Go over to DC or Virginia, for God’s sake. Just stay clear of this Montgomery County suburb.

It’s no Van Ness, that’s for sure.