Chivalry lives
I recently read Lynne Truss' latest excellent book, Talk to the Hand. Really, she was preaching to the choir, as I am equally astonished as to the growing utter bloody rudeness of society (despite the fact that I am under 35 and my elbow skin still bounces back). And given my pugilistic preggie rage, my tolerance for rudeness has diminished quite significantly these last few months.
Nevertheless, good manners and kind consideration do pop up on occasion. And it turns out one must be pregnant to bring out the goodness of strangers. When I had a broken ankle and relied on crutches to hobble about and London Transport to get around, do you think anyone ever gave up a seat for me? But now that I'm visibly pregnant, the kindness of strangers has been visited upon me.1
In Boston, once I was getting onto the T and another woman headed for the seat right by the driver. You know, one of the seats that are generally reserved for the infirm, the elderly, and the pregnant. As soon as she saw me hauling myself up the stairs, she got up and moved a few rows back. Another time, when Werner and I were out together, we got onto a terribly crowded T train, and someone actually got up to give me a seat! I was as dumbfounded as I was grateful.
Back in Vancouver, I've had some consideration at the local grocery stores. Once, I had only a hand basket and ended up picking up more groceries than intended. (Not unusual, I admit.) The basket was becoming unbearably heavy, and I asked for carry-out service to help me get the paid groceries out to the car. The assistance was much appreciated. At another store, the clerk wouldn't even allow me to put the bags into the cart, she insisted on doing it for me.
I've seen people not hold doors open for women with strollers (if I've ever done this, it was unintentional, and I apologise profusely!), so I know this won't last for long. But for now, I am thankful. Not only does it make quotidien activities a wee bit easier, it helps to alleviate some despair over the state of society.
1 As Diane Flacks notes in her marvellous pregnancy memoir, Bear With Me, a pregnant woman really needs a seat on a bus during her first trimester, when nobody knows - or at least believes - she is pregnant. We were in Montréal when I was about 18 weeks, and although I desperately needed a seat on a crowded, hot, stuffy bus, none was offered.
Nevertheless, good manners and kind consideration do pop up on occasion. And it turns out one must be pregnant to bring out the goodness of strangers. When I had a broken ankle and relied on crutches to hobble about and London Transport to get around, do you think anyone ever gave up a seat for me? But now that I'm visibly pregnant, the kindness of strangers has been visited upon me.1
In Boston, once I was getting onto the T and another woman headed for the seat right by the driver. You know, one of the seats that are generally reserved for the infirm, the elderly, and the pregnant. As soon as she saw me hauling myself up the stairs, she got up and moved a few rows back. Another time, when Werner and I were out together, we got onto a terribly crowded T train, and someone actually got up to give me a seat! I was as dumbfounded as I was grateful.
Back in Vancouver, I've had some consideration at the local grocery stores. Once, I had only a hand basket and ended up picking up more groceries than intended. (Not unusual, I admit.) The basket was becoming unbearably heavy, and I asked for carry-out service to help me get the paid groceries out to the car. The assistance was much appreciated. At another store, the clerk wouldn't even allow me to put the bags into the cart, she insisted on doing it for me.
I've seen people not hold doors open for women with strollers (if I've ever done this, it was unintentional, and I apologise profusely!), so I know this won't last for long. But for now, I am thankful. Not only does it make quotidien activities a wee bit easier, it helps to alleviate some despair over the state of society.
1 As Diane Flacks notes in her marvellous pregnancy memoir, Bear With Me, a pregnant woman really needs a seat on a bus during her first trimester, when nobody knows - or at least believes - she is pregnant. We were in Montréal when I was about 18 weeks, and although I desperately needed a seat on a crowded, hot, stuffy bus, none was offered.
posted by Melanie A at 5:14 p.m.
1 Comments:
It's true about needing the seat in the first trimester on the bus. And in the third, because when the bus brakes suddenly and you're standing, your belly keeps travelling even though your feet are thoroughly planted (true). However, while pregnant and not with my toddler, I routinely gave my seat up to people with little kids and the very elderly. That said, I got on a 98 B-Line while visibly seven months pregnant, with Joffre (age 2), the diaper bag, and the umbrella stroller, and was vainly trying to manage everything in the aisle. I finally said, in exasperation, "could one of you PLEASE give us your seat before we fall down?" And after a few seconds of all the fake-Gucci-wearing stick insects ignoring me, a woman who must have been seventy got up and let us sit.
/rant
Re. kindness to the pregnant: http://www.antigeist.com/archives/001308.html
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