Thursday, May 14, 2015

Dear Emily Post--

by Frances Mae Renier
from the Piece of Cake Mysteries
by Jacklyn Brady


Whatever happened to manners? That's what I want to know. Just the other day, I was out making groceries at a local store. I was wheeling my buggy (known as a shopping cart to some of you) out the door when a young man came rushing up from behind me. I expected him to slow down and follow me outside at a reasonable pace, but he pushed his way right up next to me and almost got our two buggies stuck in the doorway in the process.

I'm sure you'll be happy to hear that I managed to cut him off at the last moment and get my own buggy outside first. But that only seemed to make him more impatient. He whipped around me so fast, he stirred up a breeze.

Now when I say he was young, I don't mean he was a teenager. No, this man was 50 if he was a day. Didn't bother with so much as an, "Excuse me, ma'am" or a "Pardon my extreme rudeness." Nothing at all. He just whipped past me and kept on rolling out into the parking lot. Seemed to me like he considered himself the most important person on the planet. Maybe it's a good thing he almost maimed me in his rush to get out of the store. Otherwise, I would not have pegged him for a VIP.

Well, off he trotted across the parking lot, intent to get on about his very important business, and I continued on toward my car at a more respectable pace. I put my three little bags into the car and pulled out just as careful as you please. Imagine my surprise when I stopped before merging into traffic on the street and looked into my rearview mirror. There was my "friend"fuming in a rundown old truck behind me.

Right away, I pegged him as a transplant to New Orleans. It's a well-known fact that no son of a Southern mama would even think of behaving that way. But even here, good manners seem to be flying out the window.

Used to be, we respected our elders. Now it seems like older folks are just in the way. An annoyance. As if any of us gets old by choice. Believe me, nobody wants to get older. At least nobody I know.

What about where you live? Do you see the same kinds of things happening in your town? I suppose it's too much to hope that some day we can return to a kinder, gentler way of life. What do you think?


Jacklyn Brady lives on the Gulf Coast and writes the Piece of Cake Mystery series which is set in New Orleans and features cake artist and trained pastry chef, Rita Lucero.

Rebel Without a Cake, book #5 in the Piece of Cake Mystery Series, is available at your favorite bookseller now! Jacklyn loves to hear from readers. Connect with her on the web: Website | Facebook | Twitter

photo credit: Plastic self service trolley. via photopin (license)
photo credit: McLean, Texas via photopin (license)


  1. The poor guy is probably much more miserable than he makes others...

    1. You're probably right, Naomi. It says more about him than it does about me!

  2. Oh, Miss Frankie, I know what you mean. It seems to me it's the self important folks that are the rudest. They just push you aside and go on their way. When too many times, the poor little guys in dirty work jeans or the rough looking, leather wearin' gents are the ones that hold the door for me or offer to take my buggy back to the store. It just goes to show you, money can't buy manners. Looking forward to your latest adventures with Rita and the group at Zydeco.

  3. No, money certainly can't buy manners. Or I guess it could, but it doesn't guarantee that a person has them!

  4. Here in our small town in South Dakota, people seem to be a little more laid back. They are really very nice. My husband and I went to get our will made and the lawyer was so pleasant. We went to the post office to get our passports done and the clerk was so friendly. We stopped at the bank and everyone in the bank was just so nice! A very pleasant day in town!

  5. bwahaahaa, I was at the grocery store and I had trouble in the parking lot with this young gal (20's - 30's) just sitting in the area I wanted to park. I finally pulled in figuring my 1997 pickup had a lot less to lose than her new looking cart. Someone blared on their horn and finally got her moving. However, I am not sure she was all there the way she slowly drove around the parking lot, could not figure out which lane to use. Glad I was parked by then.