I wish I could say that, in the wake of shocking tragedy, what has stood out for me the most is the overwhelming love and kind support. While that has been steady and relentless, what actually stands out - as in, unexpected -  is the audacious, discourteous crudity human beings are comfortable displaying.

Last week, for instance, my coworker said, "A guy came in here. Josh I think. He said he used to know a girl who worked in Bethesda. When we asked him who it was he said, 'Emma.' We were like, 'She works here!' And he seemed excited. Then he looked around then left. Do you know a guy named Josh?"

I know one hundred Joshes.

But only one awkward enough to come into my place of employment shamelessly asking about me. Only one that would have been mistaken for gay. He has a pretty face.

"Was he Hispanic?" I asked. He was.

"Did he talk loudly?" He did.

"Might he have been full of himself?" He might have.

"Ugh...I went on a date with that guy," I admitted. I didn't write about it because he wore those True Religion jeans with the white stitching and a graphic polo like he was Ricky Martin about to shake his bon bon (Yes, I judge what people are wearing. Especially guys I go on dates with.); and I was embarrassed.

A little while later, I walked through the fit room and ran straight into Josh Gonzalez. Eff.

"Oh, hi. Josh. Hi. How are you? Good to see you? Hi..." I repeated feeling incredibly impatient and annoyed.

"Hi! Good to see you too!" Then he kissed both cheeks like a wanna be French person. "I walked in earlier, and they told me you worked here and that you would be in at three, so I thought I would stop in after my lunch meeting with my client." He was staring down at my hips. I followed his eyes and realized they were focused on my fanny pack. 

"Um, I don't normally wear fanny packs. Just today because I want to show how cool this one actually is..." I trailed off, starting to open it like I was actually going to explain the Bum Bag.

"Actually, I'm into fanny packs. If you would have stuck around you have found that out. Oh well. Your loss."  I looked up at him and swallowed the throw up in my mouth. "Anyway, so there was a mur-der in your store?! That was crazy. Did you know that girl? That was cra-zy! I mean, what happened?!"

Rendered speechless, I just stood there. I mean, seriously? Some human beings are complete idiots. This was the sixteenth or seventeenth time a person had overtly displayed high levels of insensitivity and tactlessness in the past couple weeks, and I was so over even dealing with it. When he saw the disgusted look on my face he said, "Well, let's not talk about it?"

"Yeah, let's not," I said in my meanest and most sarcastic tone.

"Oh, still sassy I see!" he said. And this time I held my breath so as not to throw up all over his Express Men's shirt. Although in retrospect, I wish I could have projectile vomited on demand. Like you know how people can burp the alphabet? I would just throw up on rude boys.

His phone rang, and he said, "I need to take this." He proceeded to walk around the store obnoixiously talking on phone. My coworker pulled me aside and asked, "Who is that guy?" I rolled my eyes. My face must have turned red because her eyes widened and she said "Oh, Emma." This was worse than the time I had to duck behind cash when I guy I had a one night stand with walked in. Even worse than the time I locked myself in the fitting room for 30 minutes while a guy I never called back tried on pants. And it gets worse.

"Well, I have to go," he declared as he hung up his phone and approached me again.

"Okay, well have a great weekend," I said plainly.

"Oh, I meant to tell you...So my friend started this website I thought you might want to check out. I thought it might align with your philiospohical beliefs or your company's philosophical beliefs. It's called chexout.com. It's a website for anonymous STD testing." Please make it stop.

Let me clarify, this guy knows nothing about my "philosophical beliefs." We went on 1.5 dates, and I never called him back.

"Excuse me?" I said, shocked.

"Yeah, I thought you might like it. Write it down. Write it down so you don't forget."

"Listen, I can remember it. I don't need to write it down. And the only person who tells people what to do around here is me. Have a nice evening Josh," I replied.

Truly, I don't think he got it. He just smiled and went on about something else, then bid farewell to the entire store like he was a regular. So rude. So clueless. And I have stories actually worse than this one - so bad that they are too inappropriate to publish. The moral of the story children, is to approach situations - no matter the discomfort they produce - with civility, courtesy and kindness. And every now and then, treat yourself to a new pair of jeans.

Emma Dinzebach