This evening I bought a coffee at McDonalds at the Central Library. The young worker, a Filipina woman, acted as though "thank you" wasn't part of her vocabulary. More often than not, it's like that at that particular McDonalds.
But what happened next bugged me, as it has bugged me so many times in Vancouver.
As I was leaving McDonalds, even though my coffee was getting cold -- it's freezing in Vancouver this evening -- I waited and held the door for an elderly woman with a cane hobbling toward the restaurant. As I was waiting, I was thinking, "I bet she won't even say thank you." She walked through the open door. Not a thank you to be heard.
When this happens, it always knocks my mood down a notch.
I'm finished. I'm done. I'm not going to hold doors open anymore for strangers in the uncivil city. I'm going to be Vancouverude.