I think I'm going through some kind of transformation and it's not a good one. I don't know if it's a by-product of my new found downward mobility, or a thryroid problem, or the stress of the job, or what, but lately I have been one fierce little rage-ball. With teeth.

Maybe it's perimenopause or something. Isn't that like when you have PMS for years? I don't know. All I know is that, if it is, then I'm mad as hell about it.

Seriously, ever since last week, I have basically had one reaction to everything that I've heard about, seen, or happened to me. I'm pissed off.

I landed with both feet on a clerk at a sandwhich shop who gave me a bunch of crap along with my sandwhich last weekend.

"Yes?" she asked me archly as I approached the register with our sodas and a bag of chips. This was after she'd kept us waiting a lot longer than we needed to while she treated her teenage co-worker ( this woman was my age) with motherly distain drawn out with lots of chit-chat while the kid attempted to buy a sandwhich to take home with him after work.

"Just this, and the sandwhiches we have ordered with the other young lady." I said. I'd never been in this sandwhich shop before. The young lady who was making our food had said, "I'll set it by the register" I'd never been to a place where the staff didn't communicate the orders with each other.

"Well" she said, in the same way she'd been talking to the pada-wan that had just left, "you'll have to tell me what that is, now won't you?"

Boy was she sorry she ever met me! And so was her manager, and probably everybody else within earshot of the place. The only person who came out ahead was The Hub who got two free sandwhich coupons to use - the sandwhich shop is near the Home Depot where he's taken a part-time job in the evenings and on weekends.

I'm seriously burnt up at the slow response of everybody but Wal-mart to the tragedy of New Orleans. Yes, I know I'm a bleeding heart liberal and proud of it, but politics has nothing to do with the fact that I'm mad at my government. If a basically heartless, lowest-common-denominator retailer can have either more compassion OR better logistical planning than the federal government then something is seriously wrong!

But that doesn't mean I'm also not mad at the media for playing up every aspect of racism /classism / homo-phobia/ division-ism. The American public is not stupid. We are already familiar with the problem that many African Americans live in poverty, and that we as a nation care much more about wealthy people than poor ones. Anybody who, before the hurricane struck, thought that the ruling class in this country gave a crap about the poor of Gulf region, or anywhere else in the U.S. would have to have the IQ of a turnip. We don't need a bunch of talking heads to tell us what we're seeing - we can see it with our own eyes. The pictures that came out of the devistated areas of the Gulf - pictures of blacks and whites alike - told the story plainly.

Instead of generating any discussion about what we can do to solve the problem - which, for the record, I see as more to do with class than race - we had HOURS of discussion, at least on the radio of "Are poor/black/minority/elderly/handicapped people REALLY marginalized in our society?" Gee, ya think?! And these people who thought that they had some kind of point because most of the looters in New Orleans were black!! They astonished me! Most of the population of New Orleans was black, and the majority of the population remained law abiding even in dreadful circumstances. Who the hell did they expect to be doing the looting? Ethnic chinese? Former Enron employees? Al-Quida? Aaarrrrggggh!!

The person with whom I really lost it though, was Sir Sailsman of the job-in-the-box. He made me so mad that I violated my cardinal rule of "say it to the person's face." And, I tell you, I can't remember the last time I've ever lobbed a (verbal of course) shot at somebody's retreating back. Maybe 5th grade. But, even worse, I'm not even sorry.

Here's the scene: It's late in the day. I'm hunched over the board trying to stuff somebody's 20 hour repair into somebody elses 8 hour day. Some techs are gathered in the dispatch area, discussing a problem with a valve with Senior Super Jew ( I'm not calling this senior level tech something derogatory. He frequently refers to himself as "Super Jew" and encourages others to call him this)

Sir Sailsman comes in. This guy is like a walking charecture of himself. Yes, he sails. He has some big ole boat that he's always talking about. He's tall and even more broad shouldered than The Hub, deep voiced, and I suppose he could be handsome if you could get past the fact that he's a world class ass hole. His entire style is to deliberately physically intimidate people. One of these days he's going to get into a room with CSM and both of them will just spontaneously combust. If he doesn't get his way he generally resorts to hollaring. His "charming stage" is limited and so is his vocabulary. Nevertheless, the first time he loomed over me with some demand he must have gotten the idea that it not going to work, because I got right to my feet, so I was about an inch and a half away from his face, looked him dead in the eye at eye level and told him to go back down the hall and see the appropriate person.

They all started talking about the storm, etc. in a general way, and I heard Senior Super Jew say to Sir Sailsman, "Oh, come on now, I know you spent money somewhere yesterday. You had to at least make a donation."

"I didn't make any donation." Sir Sailsman said loudly and proudly,

"You're kidding? You really didn't donate to the red cross or anything?" Senior Super Jew asked. He was plainly astonished.

"I'm not donating for those people, all that f------ bestiality!" he said, from the door way and he left to the general laughter to the techs. But, it was a mixture of the nervous laughter I've heard men give a bully and the kind of I-can't-believe-he-said-that laughter.

As it quieted down I said, without turning around, but in that voice I have that would corrode steel "Yeah, Sir Sailsman, he's what you call a real man, floatin' around on that boat, too morally outraged by somebody elses sex acts to throw 50 cents to buy a poor baby some formula. But I guess he can tell which way somebody swings by their picture on t.v. even if it's just a kid. Must be true what they say."

It was very quiet for a long time before Sir Super Jew ventured to ask "What?"

At which point I turned around and smiled innocently, "Why, that it takes one to know one one!"

And that brought a laugh too....and not just then. I heard it repeated. I should be ashamed. I know I should be. Well, I AM ashamed that I played into the homophobic culture of the techs, implying that I'm judgemental about alternative lifestyles, which I'm not. But so far that's all that bothers me about it. Maybe I'll feel worse, later, when I'm not so burnt up about everything.

Wonder when that's gonna be?