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No Comments The Right
My wife and I were in Safeway today and as usual, there was someone in there who by American cultural standards shouldn’t have been there. There used to be this idea that a business could refuse service to anyone. Sixty years ago this notion was abused for racial reasons and hence a rather reasonable right has succumbed to the relentless push to make a business have to do business with people who are voluntarily undesirable.
Now it seems that every obnoxious miscreant must be given service just because they are human. If someone comes into your store smelling like an outhouse, they must be served. Loitering has become a pastime for lazy people. And dogs, dare I mention dogs in stores. These aren’t service animals for necessary personal needs, no they’re just dogs of all sorts from puffy poodles to unkempt rag dogs on their last leg.
I find shopping for food with dirty animals and even dirtier old men to be an affront to my personal space. I don’t want to smell them or watch them sniffing this, handling that and making me feel I’m in some land foreign to me. If I wanted to live in Tijuana I’d move there.
This may sound, let’s say, prejudice, blah, blah, blah but I really don’t care. My health and the condition and health of my community is my business and concern. Cleanliness is not too much to ask of our fellow man and that includes women, kids, dogs and whatever else goes shopping. We grew up poor but we were always clean.
Our rights end when we infringe upon another person’s space and well being. In my humble opinion, we should be able to refuse service to anyone. This idea is especially true in the sale of weapons. If dealers could refuse to sell to people based on their instincts, many weapons obtained legally might not end up in the hands of wrong-minded people quite so easily. I’ve seen people arrested for a crime where a weapon was used. Just by looking at their face and demeanor I can tell they’re not the right kind of people who should buy a weapon.
But business owners have fewer rights all the time, meaning you and I must put up with the trappings of a banana republic on our trip to being a banana republic. I’m done; I’m just tired of an irresponsible, self-indulgent, couldn’t care less who I bother, society.