Rules Don't Apply To Me

Friday while I was driving south on Route 95, I noticed an incredibly intelligent individual in a white Supra crossing three lanes of traffic in the pouring rain. He did all this without using his turn signal, or even any sort of indication that he was about to veer 20 feet to the right in the span of one second. It was quite a daring move.

I generally expect every other driver around me to do the dumbest thing possible at any given moment, and I am not afflicted with easily triggered road rage. Nevertheless, the brash recklessness on display on any given commute never fails to astound me. First off, driving like that is dangerous anyway; I'm pretty sure natural selection should have already taken care of these genetically-deficient rebels in souped-up lemons. Even more than that, though, what thought process would lead these miscreants to think that crossing three lanes without signaling or looking (rain or shine) would ever be okay?

We see this everywhere. Ordinary folks with the misguided idea that "oh, that rule doesn't apply to me". Sometimes it's incredibly obvious and brash (have a seat, Ron Blagojevich) and other times it's relatively harmless (13 items in the 12 items or less lane). In either scenario, don't you find it fascinating how people must internally rationalize their behavior to the point that certain rules and guidelines can be blatantly violated, and all the while the guilty party sees nothing wrong with their actions?

Yes, I know that I am supposed to signal and check my blind spots, then proceed one lane at a time, but it's cool. I'm good. What do you mean you won't take my paper/application/submission three days after the deadline? I don't think you appreciate how much I worked on this. Yeah, I'm supposed to wash my hands before returning to work, but they feel clean. And what do you mean I can't use my cell phone when visiting my child's school? Seriously? I know about the many problems that it poses to the staff and students, but this is an important call.

When I worked at a children's museum, which incidentally was the sweetest work-study job you could hope to get, there was a section of the museum specifically devoted to infants and babies called "Littlewoods". At the gate, there was one rule. It was written on the wall in bright colors and purposely placed at eye level: "Littlewoods is for our visitors aged four and under and their caregivers./Littlewoods esta para los infantes hace cuatro anos y sus cuidadores." I was continually subjected to parents who would read the rule, and then bring their five and six year olds over to ask me if they could come in. If my shift took me to this part of the museum, it was my job to be the bouncer. This actually happened:

Me: Hi, welcome to Littlewoods. How old are you?
Gap Kids model: I'm five, but my mom said to tell you that I'm four.
Gap Kids model's mom: Oh, she just loves making up stories! Too funny! She can go in anyway, right?
Me: No. Please stop by our gift shop on your way out.

While pondering all of this, it immediately occured to me how many "No Food or Drinks" signs I have violated in the past week. The answer, I think, is three. I felt above that rule because I am always in those places and have personally contributed to their associated communities, so I apparently believe I am entitled to keeping my iced coffee. Those signs might as well have read "No hypocrites beyond this point", the way I was moving right past them.