I am one of the politest motherfuckers you will ever meet: I’m the stereotypical Canadian who will go out of her way to say “please” and “thank you”, will bend over backwards to be accommodating, and is absolutely mortified at the thought of being rude. So you can bet your fucking ass that I said “excuse me” while trying to squeeze past someone on the bus this morning to make room for an elderly lady to exit the packed row, because it’s ingrained in every fibre of my being. To not have said “excuse me” in that moment would be like forgetting to breathe. I don’t need to think about it, because I just do it. I say “excuse me” so often and for things that no one can hear or see that many times I’ve had to explain why I just said “excuse me” over nothing at all.

So when someone who is easily twice my height and width decides I DIDN’T say “excuse me” while trying to get past his massive frame and BODY CHECKS ME so hard I almost fall over, I tend to get a little upset.

As in “yelling argument on the bus” upset.

As in audibly calling someone a “deaf fucking asshole” upset.

At first I was (rightfully) bothered that someone had assaulted me, but now I’m equally if not more upset that someone thought I was rude.

FUCK YOU BUDDY, I AM NOT FUCKING RUDE

So, now I’m upset all over the place and I don’t much care for it. Turns out I dislike being body checked! Who knew?