A Moveable Beast

I’ve forgotten just about everything I learned in my high school French class, but the expression bete noir clings to my battered memory like a barnacle on a battle ship.

The literal translation of bete noir is “black beast,” but the dictionary definition is “a person or thing one particularly dislikes.”

I suspect the reason this particular term has lingered for so long in my mind is that there are so many things in this world that keep it alive.

My blogging buddies Ron at Being Ron and Bijoux at Bytes from the Burbs have both written posts about the things they really hate—their bete noirs—so I thought this would be an appropriate time to unleash one of my beasts.

The place: my doctor’s office. The time: Friday morning.

I had gone in to get a blood test and a shingles injection, a seemingly simple affair that somehow morphed into a monster ferocious enough to make Godzilla crap his drawers—should he ever decide to start wearing drawers.

I showed up at 8:30AM, certain I’d bounced out of there in 30 minutes or less. But unbeknownst to me, Fate had rolled up her sleeves, cracked her knuckles and let out a massive, “yeah, right.”

And now here’s where the bete noir rears its ugly kisser.

As I sat in the waiting room trying to read my paper, I started to hear shouting behind me.

I initially thought it was coming from outside, but when I finally turned around I saw a woman sitting by the door watching something rather loud on her I-phone.

No headphones, no ear buds, and absolutely no regard for anyone else in the room.

When I was a kid, the doctor’s waiting room was as quiet as a library.

The only sound you heard was someone fluttering through the pages of a year-old National Geographic.

There Will be Blood

I’m seeing this kind of behavior all over. People will watch or hold video calls on their phones and make no attempt to keep the volume down.

Look, you can watch or listen to any kind of crap you want. Watch until your head explodes—the sooner, the better. But why the hell should I have to hear it?

The staff at the doctor’s office said nothing to the woman nor did any of the other people in the waiting room.

I was furious with this woman, but, to be honest, I’m also angry at myself for not speaking up.

Things only got worse from there and, thanks to some serious incompetence, I staggered out of the doctor’s office nearly two hours later, tired, hungry, and homicidal.

I could overlook must of that misery as just bad luck. But that idiot with the I-phone is gnawing at me.

My aunt had a similar experience at her building last week when she went up to the rooftop to relax and some loser started playing music on her phone.

I never had much use for most of humanity, but I’m starting to wonder if the COVID-19 lockdown has opened up a darker side of ourselves.

It seems like all that time stuck inside has caused some people to forget their manners.

People are driving like lunatics, too: buzzing through Stop signs and red lights, and speeding through residential neighborhoods.

And while most crimes went down last year, the U.S. saw its biggest one-year increase in homicides in 2020.

Now my aunt walks with some difficulty and she pointed out that people have also been incredibly helpful when she goes out.

And I’ve been very fortunate myself in that regard, especailly when I was recovering from my kne surgery, so maybe I should't give up on humanity just yet.

Bete noirs are going to turn up in this life and, if nothing else, they remind us how lucky we are to have the good people.