Monday, June 20, 2005

No Home Training

Actually, I spent my formative years in home training boot camp. However, after about 18, I filed for conscientious objector status. When my mother passed away, I discovered how scandalous people can and will be when they think that you don't have anyone in your corner. I mean, my dad was there for me, but he had his own shit with him (he did lose his wife) so in a lot of ways, I was on my own. Since I had adult responsibilities, there were a lot of people that had to be programmed to respect my mind. Around that time, I wiped off the shine grin and unleashed the dragon on society at large. I figured there was no need to be wishy washy with folks. I either liked you or I didn't and life was too short to leave people confused.

My mother had a very magnetic personality and after her death, everyone claimed these great friendships with her. Usually this was because the woman in question either wanted to get with my father, or had a friend that she wanted to introduce to my pops. They figured if they got in good with me, the oldest, it would be smooth sailing. What they didn't know is that my mother was no dummy and she prepared me for this bullshit. One day in particular grimy brawd that knew my family took me on what was our third "ladies luncheon" and talked about how wonderful my mother was, and how, in the spirit of friendship and goodwill, she promised her that she'd do everything in her power to "take care of the entire family." I didn't even pause as I cut into my prime rib, peered at her over the glass of chablis I conned her into getting for my underaged ass and said, "Bitch please, how many times have you been to my house? None right? That's because my mama didn't like you. If you're trying to get with my pops say that so we can stop having these bullshit lunches and go about our business." I know she wanted to slap me seven ways to Sunday and I was itching for her to do it. I guess she wasn't that crazy. I'd have whipped that ass.

I developed this fascination with telling folks to go fuck themselves. Specifically I would tell them, "Here's a suggestion - how about you go couplate with a rusty sewerage pipe and stay out of my damned business?" I told to one of my ex's cousins this after he told me that I needed to learn my place and let my husband come home whenever the hell he wanted. The thing is, this bamma didn't even know the meaning of "copulate". However he wasn't so dumb as to not be pissed when I told him to get a dictionary to look the word up, then get his daughter's "my first dictionary" to help him with the words in the regular dictionary. I thought of calling him a cretin, but I'm more than sure he wouldn't have known the meaning behind that either.

I am most definitely the fly in the ricebowl at my uber republican right wing office and more often than not it drives me nuts. The thing is, they sort of goosestep around racial issues, try to be politically correct in my presence and talk alot of shit when I'm not around. One all but called me a credit to my race. After discovering this, I decided that I would say pretty much whatever pops into my head at the time. When the crazy chick in my office starts acting, well, crazy, I'll tell my boss shit like, "I'm really not in the mood to go to jail for killing up some white folks today." Or if my supplies have been removed I'll ask, "Which one of you people took my stuff in the name of manifest destiny? Did you put a flag on it?" My personal favorite is "Okay, eight hours of white folks is about all I can stand. Good night." I'm sure I'm every type of jigaboo in the book in their opinion, but oh well, c'est la vie. I'm convinced that to a couple of them, I'd be a jig either way, so I may as well get my jollies out of the deal.

I got tired of pleading with my ex for money and since I'm convinced that I'll NEVER see a cent from him, I've decided to make it entertaining for me. So on the RARE happenstance that I actually talk to him, I'll blurt out, "Man, you've been dodging us like you owe me chi...oops, nevermind," and burst into laughter. It really is good medicine.

I'm really not a bad person. I just spent a lot of years thinking that being "good" equated to a chronic diet of other people's bullshit, and that's just not the case. Once I discovered that I could be good and occasionally correct a mofo, "liberated" doesn't begin to cover what I felt. I'm acutally discovering that I'm going soft in my old age and folks are starting to get away with more and more bs with me. *shrug* It doesn't really bother me that much anymore. I've handed out more than my fair share of new assholes, so letting folks slide these days is sort of my way to give back to the community.

3 comments:

Amadeo said...

Call the stupid people "Lepton" it's beautiful.

BLESSD1 said...

Hmmmm....I like this post. From the perspective of one who has had his arse sliced up verbally by the author, I can definitely verify its authenticity. The author has even, in her own "special" way, encouraged me to do a lil' ass slicing myself whenever my bullshit meter goes into the red. Thanx for the post and the guidance!

Danja said...

u of course are fucking hilarious

i learned from the best, i learned from youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu