A License to Be Rude

It is either that there is a strong streak of masochism in me or that I feel it is better to be criticized than to be ignored. AND, believe me, I do know there is that alternative of being praised but THAT is an alternative that seems to exist only for other people.
So, there I was, feeling the warm glow of having done my bit to save the environment and expecting my friend to praise me for having yelled at the chap who tossed a chocolate wrapper on the road. Expecting him to take a pic and share it to the rest of the world was also a pipe dream at the back of my mind but...well you know my friends, by now.
"Exactly what do you think you were doing?"
Anyone who has ever legitimately expected praise and got yelled at will know exactly how I felt when I heard that.
"What? Plastics are such a bane to the environment and that irresponsible idiot..."
"Yeah! I agree that it is a serious pollution issue. But why do you think that seeing him toss plastic on the road is a license for you to be rude? It is hardly a year before that you were doing exactly the same and, at that time, you did not consider yourself an irresponsible idiot."
"Now, everyone knows..."
"Do they? AND even if they did, is it so impossible for you to consider that it may have been an unconscious action, since this is a relatively new habit. AND exactly why is rudeness acceptable, whatever you think of the man? I could have understood it if you had told him politely and HE had ignored you or been rude to you in return. THEN I would have yelled right alongside you. But, as it was..."
"You always think I am in the wrong. Why, that time when that chap was smoking..."
"Yes! I know! And from what I could see he was smoking where he thought he was affecting nobody. HE had no idea that we were sitting on the bench on the other side of that bush. So, why could you not have merely requested him, instead of screaming at him as though he was specifically targeting you for a cancer victim?"
There you go. If I cannot even yell at these guys then exactly who can I yell at, I ask you.
"And the time you screamed at the neighborhood kid for bursting crackers during Diwali...you never miss a single chance to yell when you think it is socially acceptable, do you?"
"Come on! Why are you supporting all these anti-social..."
"Hmm! Well, they were all quite social not so long ago. That they are detrimental and need to be stopped, yes. But I still do not see why it makes you comfortable being rude to people on that count. Or is it just that civilization is only a micron thin veneer over a rabid animal in your case?"
So now I was a rabid animal merely because I did not say, "Pretty please..." while asking the guy not to chuck plastic on the road. I mean, come on, I have to do enough of all that 'Please' and 'Sorry' both at office and at home, so exactly where am I supposed to let my hair down? AND he...well, I did not see that HE was doing all that 'Pretty please' thing with me!
"So, why are you now being rude to me?"
"Because being right does not mean that you have to act self righteously. Because rudeness begets rudeness. Because people like you pollute the whole world with your negativity."
Self righteous? Now this guy was talking as though I was one of those guys who go around beating up people for not dressing the way I think is right. Does he not know the difference between beating up people for not adhering to MY standards and metaphorically beating them up for not adhering to what is currently widely accepted as the right standards?
I glared at him. He was unmoved and went on with his tirade.
"You should thank God that it has not yet become a widely prevalent idea that driving luxury cars is villainous, although everyone knows they are polluters. The day it happens and with people of your ilk, who seem to think being polite is a burdensome way to live and should be abandoned at the first opportunity..."
Ye Gods! Could it happen? That, unless I ride a bicycle or public transport, people will feel free to scream at me?
I hope they will not let it happen, whoever they are...