“What’s Wrong With People” #132 (7/6/8)

Many times, I'm an jerk. No, no- don't deny it. I am. In fact, I frequently have undue pride in that.
And sometimes, I'm a nice guy. On occasion. Of a sort. Maybe.


Here's the set-up:
This week is one of those that, while not directly has made me want to kill, wore down on me. Like someone constantly poking you on the shoulder 24-hours a day for 5 days straight.
So when I took my usual Friday night trip to a bookstore (please recall- I have no social life and am somewhat OK with that (re: the psycho bitches)), I am already edgy. I get there and grab the new Sedaris book and stroll around, as one tends to do in a large bookstore. After a while, I find myself at the Help Desk, searching for a Sas Christian art book and helping the rather cute red-head behind the counter answer questions regarding Polanski movies.

Suddenly, some guy at the front of the store is screaming. And I mean screaming- at the top of his lungs, so loud his voice is breaking with volume. Seems while I’s off in my own lil' world of search menus and flirting, a couple with a newborn came in to purchase- guess what- books on babies. The screaming guy is upset because the baby is crying and is determined to let everyone know- even though the couple has already purchased their books and are at the door. Literally- at the door. While I don't catch all of what the screaming guy (let's call him "Screamy") is yelling, I do hear "this is a fucking bookstore for fuck's sake!". The couple is understandably upset, the mother on the verge of tears, and leave. The bookstore staff is speechless as Screamy, now devoid of his intended target, turns his floaming attention to them. After venting a bit more, this guy has the balls to turn around and walk back to read (note "read", not purchase) more books. Cursing (mostly) under his breath and using wild arm movements, Screamy passes by the counter I am at.

And at that moment, I reach the peak of what I can tolerate today.
I lose it to the extent I can't clearly remember all that I say, although considering I receive some clapping from customers and staff- I do alright. I do recall saying something like:
"Did you pay cover to get in here? Do you have a ticket, or will be paying for the atmosphere? 'Cause if you didn't, those people had the same right as you to be in a public place of commerce. More so as they actually bought something instead of sitting on their ass just reading the books. You got a bug up your ass 'bout something, you suck it up, shut it up, or leave- YOU DON'T YELL AT BABIES!! And if you did pay to get in here, you're the most ignorant fuck I've come across this week, which is really saying something." (I'm paraphrasing, of course)

Then, from what I understand (please understand at that point, everything is in a red haze), I threaten him when he starts sputtering about his rights. And we are both asked to leave. But not before I get my book.


My serious question is- was I righteous in my anger and what I said, or was I being an asshole no better than Screamy?