Insult-Inadequacy Crisis

I was at the Udvar-Hazy Center yesterday when I realized the peril of insult inflation. You know, how someone who a decade ago would be merely an asshole is now automatically a douchebag. Because when you see the real thing up close, words fail.

SO, walking into the Space Hanger, I am behind a young couple. She is in denim cutoffs and a white shirt; he is dressed in long shorts, a green T-shirt with Kevin Garnett's name and number on the back, and a baseball hat.

They pass one of the many Lucite donation boxes in the museum, you know the ones that imply that museums are partnerships between us the museumgoers and the institutions themselves. They stop. Why, somebody's donation is protruding ever so slightly from the slot! At first I think he's just trying to push it down so he can make his own donation, but no: He's fishing it out. And sticking it in his pocket. And then his girlfriend is rubbing his back and saying, "Yay!" and he's grinning like all his Christmases just came at once.

Douchebag may be worth less than the dollar, but I'm thinking maggot still works in this case.

Photo by roboppy