Rules For Thee, Not For Me

I had a well-meaning passenger voice their concerns about my driving habits. I find myself driving faster in areas where I have memorized traffic light patterns and the habits of other street bound maniacs. I am loathed to lay on the breaks and I expect for others to not “Mickey Mouse” at stop signs.

I don’t knowingly decide to be “that kind of person” but it comes naturally. But I didn’t decided to become that kind of person, I had a great example to inspire me.

It was a few years before I started driving and learning the joys of drinking alcohol. I was dragged into attending various religious events, which put the first nails in the coffin of my football “career”. I for the most part have checked out of it, minus running into a few folks I would get in trouble with. And I would be able to salvage part of those events.

I found myself getting dragged into traveling trips for our youth group. I had fun on occasion but I also got in trouble. This trip would be no different, we were going to Louisiana. We were in good hands, well known chaperones, including a friend’s mom we called “Bill”. Bill didn’t bother me but another one did. The other one is someone I call “Saint Hildy”. Saint Hildy was someone who did their best to do what they say. But this was to everyone’s deficit. There was always an well intentioned interference from her.

This time it was a “compact” or a “morals clause”. We all had to sign it. No drinking, sex, gambling, smoking, etc. I ended up having my poker chips being seized, because “gambling”? Yeah, afterhours shenanigans were being shunted. Most of the kids did their best to follow this. But the irony is that the adults had to sign the morals clause also.

Most of the adults aren’t the wildest people. Pretty calm and wanting to relax at the end of the day. But they did want an opportunity to get away from the kids. And they picked one of the few places open in that tiny town; The Sizzler.

St. Hildy, along with “Bill”, and two other adults went along. The most senior male present, Pauly, went in and ordered a beer. The clutching at pearls St. Hildy told Pauly that “everyone signed a morals clause, we aren’t supposed to be drinking”. Pauly’s response was gold: “I’m a grown man. That doesn’t apply to me”.

I silently laughed when I overheard this. But it rang true years later. I generally get pissy when I hear shit like that. I take the trash out in my underwear, although I was told I wasn’t supposed to do that. I used to drink booze before noon, which was some social faux pas years ago. And I am personally fond of smoking cigars while shopping, because you know why? That shit is for other people, not for me.

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2 Responses to Rules For Thee, Not For Me

  1. Pingback: Rules For Thee, Not For Me — Mogadishu Matt | Vermont Folk Troth

  2. Pingback: FreeMatt in Review: 9-6 to 9-10 | Mogadishu Matt

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