Small Stuff

me:  "Thanks and have a great afternoon."
guy1:  "Yeah, and thanks for cutting in line."
guy2:  "What was that?"
guy1:  "You jumped in front of the line."
guy2:  "She opened a register and....."
guy1:  "No, she said she'd take the next in line"
guy2:  "Look, I'm not going to argue with you.  Guys like you are always causing problems."
guy1: "You ARE the problem, ASSHOLE!"

Raised voices, pointing fingers, red faces, profanities thrown.  Sounds like a scene from a bad movie.  But it's not.  It the scene that transpired in my line at work today, shortly before my shift was over.   I actually thought it might come to blows.  After they left, my heart was racing, my hands were shaking, and I felt generally harassed.  Why did this nasty conversation between two strangers, that didn't directly involve me, affect me so much?   I was simply trying to help them out so they didn't have to wait in line.  I guess I should have let them wait.  A book title jumps to mind and I'd like to suggest those two "gentlemen" read it: Don't Sweat the Small Stuff.  Life is too short and trust me, whether you're first or second in line is definitely small stuff.