My prejudices are few but very, very petty. For one, I hate people who cut in lines. It's a faux pas guaranteed to make me do extremely rude things (though I stop short at actual violence barring a couple of incidents when I shoved the offender right out of my way and was very much tempted to do more. However, my cousin Michelle, who shares my dislike and is considerably more reactive, was actually detained in a police station after nearly tearing out the hair of a girl who cut in front of her in an overcrowded train station during rush hour and kicking the girl's boyfriend's crotch. I think her irritation was compounded by the fact that the couple was all over each other and couldn't care less. Michelle had just broken up with her own boyfriend at that time, and so).
... Where was I? Yes, people I hate. Another species -- and this group is a variation of the above -- includes pushy, hefty, loud, middle-aged matrons who grab people and push them aside and hit them not-so-accidentally with their horrible tasteless canvas bags as they lunge inside the train in order to get first dibs on empty seats. If they don't, they spend the rest of the train ride glaring ostentatiously down at whoever did get a seat and pretending to wobble on their feet, sighing about how the young people today are so rude to their elders ad nauseam. Excuse me, madam, if you're strong enough to knock otherwise harmless passengers out of your way, you can damn well stand for the ten to fifteen minutes it takes to reach your station. With all due respect.
*Doesn't help that my own mother is a notorious repeat offender of aforementioned crimes. But then she's seriously psychotic. She doesn't kick people when they're down because she thinks she's entitled to deferment due to ridiculous parochial notions of moral values, she does it because she likes to win. I remember a rare instance when my mother and I took public transport together. The MRT station was filled with people, as usual. I left her in a corner and told her to stay put while I bought tickets and resignedly stood at the end of a very long line. Five minutes later, I saw her jumping up and down and yelling at me... from in front the ticketmaster window of the express lane (the line to which was even longer than the regular ticket lanes). Needless to say, I was horrified. When I fought my way over to her, I found out that not only did she not have exact fare money, she also refused to make way for the poor man standing behind her while she demanded me to supplement her change. The ticketmaster was by this time pounding on the window and ordering Mom to get in line. Mom only pounded the window back and told him to shut up because she was a Filipino citizen (whatever that meant). Thankfully, between the two of us, we managed to cover our fare and I dragged her over to the waiting platform. She was very pleased with herself.
"Mom," I said, "if I had been the person standing behind you, you'd be seriously tied down on the tracks by now. I mean it."
"Okay, let's try to put this more philosophically. If you had been standing in line for nearly twenty minutes in a very hot and overcrowded situation and suddenly this rude, overbearing, totally insensitive person cuts in front of you, what would you have felt?"
She looked askance at me for stating the obvious. "I'd have killed them."
"That's right. So why did you do it?"
"It's different if it's me."
"In the first place, if they're weak enough to allow themselves to be stepped on, they deserve to be stepped on. I am not weak. If someone tries to step on me I'll crush them right back."
"Don't... my god, are you really a mother??? You're not supposed to tell me these things!"
"Of course I am a mother. It was for your sake that I did it. I could never have imagined that my daughter would be an ingrate"
"Okay! Let's drop it."
And so on.
Come to think of it, maybe one reason why I'm so belligerent about people cutting in lines (I admit that I can be a little excessive) is precisely because of my mother's schizophrenic life lessons. Well, it's not as if I can do something about it now, can I.