I’m in the airport restroom and am irritated that someone with a wheelchair has had to use a regular stall because an able bodied person is in the accessible stall. I’m thinking of things to say to the person, hoping to catch them when I leave my stall. Which of course I don’t. And most likely I wouldn’t either. And I realize that there isn’t actually a handicapped sign on the stall, so that probably just makes it a suggestion, right? But I’m still irritated, and this gets me to thinking. The crux of the matter is that I’m trying to figure out whether I’ve simply become a self-righteous, pompous ass, or whether there’s a better purpose and reason for me being annoyed by such things. My husband says I should have been a police woman, because I’m always commenting on someone throwing a cigarette out of the car window or parking where they shouldn’t. Or smoking on top of a child, or wearing shoes in the play area at the mall. True, there are rules, and some of these things aren’t allowed. There is a sign at the mall, and that gargantuan kid clearly measures taller than 4ft. But who am I to police people? It’s not like I don’t break rules sometimes too. But some of these things aren’t about rules. They’re about what I believe is right or wrong. And who am I to judge that? But then that’s like saying that I’m not entitled to an opinion. Which I clearly am. And boy am I opinionated. But, you just don’t have to agree with me. And I’m always happy to give you scope to fight back. I just have to muster up the courage to accost you in the bathroom, that’s all!