Thank you is the hardest word(s)

Can someone please just tell me what the hell is wrong with people? How hard is it to acknowledge that someone else is a human being, and that, though it's a small gesture, I just did something that was intended to make your life that tiny little bit easier, despite the fact I don't even know you, and regardless of a small inconvenience to myself.

I'd done everything right you see. The road was closed, and rather than riding on the pavement to reinforce some stereotypes I hopped off the saddle and wheeled the bike up there. It narrowed ahead and you were walking towards me so, conscious of the fact I'm wider with the bike there anyway, and even more so with the panniers on this particular bike, I stopped. And waited. And let you pass before carrying on my way.

Did it ever cross your tiny troubled mind to even glance at me in realisation of my existence? I'm not asking for much, you don't even need to say thank you, because I realise speaking to someone you don't know can open up a portal to another world where you will be sucked in and subjected to torture by Barry Manilow. But a little nod of the head. Or raise of the eyebrow. I am not asking you to dance a bloody tango with me.

If this were a one-off I'd simply think there were a few rude people out there, but more and more the way I was brought up, to hold doors open for people, to say please and thank you, to treat others as you would have them treat you, has fallen into desuetude. Instead there's a blank tunnel-vision, jealously guarded personal space that none who I don't know may enter. Even if it is just an inclination of the head in thanks for a tiny deed done in my favour. For I am modernity and superiority and pom-fecking-posity.

So, in short, I should be grateful if you would remove your head from your arse and do (there is no try) your best to remind people that you're not an arrogant tosser. It'll be hard, I know, but I believe in you. There, I've done something else for you, now say thank you.