- Picked up a pile of wet paper towels from the women's room counter at a fancy theater. Apparently, some women can't manage to put them into the trash receptacle holes that are only 3 inches away.
- Picked up the pile of trash a woman threw into the bargain basket outside the supermarket. She couldn't be bothered to deposit the trash into the receptacle that was 3 feet away, which she passed as she went in the doorway.
- Picked up the clip-on sunglasses of an elderly woman as I entered the store, and ran after her calling "Ma'am' Ma'am, are these yours?" (For one horrible instant I thought I'd made a mistake and she was a Sir, because when I got up close she was wearing a men's-look cardigan. It's hard to tell from the back when the hair is short and gray.) She was grateful, at least.
- Picked up the giant potato that was rolling in the aisle of the produce section.
- I feel like there were more incidents, but they escape me now.
Not picking up after oneself is such a pet peeve of mine. When I worked at the school, it was a constant battle to help the children remember to pick up after themselves. Or to be kind and pick up something someone else had dropped. Imagine a hoodie, fallen off its hook and kicked around in the hallway. They would march right over it. I would say, "You know you're stepping on it. Why don't you pick it up and hang it on the hook? Wouldn't you like it if someone did that for your hoodie?"
I wrote a college psychology class paper on The Development of Altruism in Children, but it seems like it developed faster back then.
And the trash. "It's not MY trash," they would whine, as I asked them to pick it up. Here I got a little mean. "I don't care. It's not my trash, either, but I still pick it up ALL DAY LONG because you guys drop it and ignore it. Please pick it up and make the world a better place."
Sigh. Felix's rant over for now.
Update: The Washcloth collector is showering in his own bath now (because he's too tall for our showerhead) and seems to be reusing his washcloth.