Thursday, September 20, 2007

Piece of my Mind

It occurred to me today that I can be a real jerk inside my head. No doubt about it, my attitude has been in the crapper today. I’m just tired, and when I get tired I get really sarcastic. I fire ugly comments at people inside my mind. Thankfully, I have that little filter that keeps it from oozing out of my head and spilling out of my mouth. By the way, that filter evaporates when I drink to excess which is one of several reasons I don’t drink much alcohol. Sticking with one or two drinks prevents me from telling people exactly what I think about their bad haircut, excessive makeup and need for dental work. (Remind me to tell you the 1988 Christmas party story sometime.)

That filter is a result of two things. First all, I’m a product of my surroundings, and in the south we kill people with politeness, even when we don’t mean it. It’s somewhat dishonest and leads to a lot of passive aggressive behavior, but it’s tough to overcome. Secondly, Baby Ruth and Zeke raised me to be nice to people, even when people are not nice to me. I may be 43 years old, but they would still kick my hind end if I went around acting like a horse’s rear end most of the time. So, I keep my tired and cranky comments to myself. It’s a good thing because my imagination has been a real butt today. Here’s just a sample of what I wanted to tell folks but didn’t:

To the clerk in the drive-thru-“Those gold caps with fake gems you put on your two front teeth look like crap. What were you thinking? Bend down here and let me yank that mess out.”

To the guy who sells me company Christmas cards-“You tracked me down on my cell phone while I’m in traffic to make a sales pitch? I WILL buy some, but not today. It’s September for Pete’s sake.”

To the secretary of the attorney who wants me to provide him with information for an upcoming lawsuit-“ I don’t want to leave another message. He hasn’t returned any of my other calls, and I don’t have any hope he’ll call me back this time. Just tell him my cooperation is commensurate with his courtesy toward me. It really chaps my rump that he sent me a letter telling me to show up for a SATURDAY morning meeting and won’t even call me back to tell me what he needs from me. Two words-subpeona this!”

To the tech guy at the internet place-“If you mean a twenty minute wait, don’t tell me five to ten minutes. By the way, do you own a comb?”

To the receptionist at the internet place-“For the fourth time, I do not want a candy bar or want to watch a different channel on the TV. I just want to sit here and stew about my lengthy wait for a new DSL modem.”

To Britney Spears-“You are a walking train wreck. Get some help for your addiction before you lose your kids, your family and your career. I’m sick and tired of your trashy act staggering across my TV every morning, and I’m sad that your children have to live with a mother who obviously never stays home at night and doesn’t know when to put on underwear. They’re going to be so ashamed when they get a little older.”

To O.J. Simpson-“Mama always said what goes around comes around. Something about this latest case seems a little fishy, so I feel like I should be skeptical about it. The truth is I don’t care. I hope you go to prison for a long time. You got away with murder the first time because you had the money to hire a slick defense team. I still want you to pay for that, so I’m not even going to try to be objective this time.”

And finally, to the woman who waited on me at an unnamed store-“I’m sorry. Did you say something? I was distracted by those butt ugly plaid pants you’re wearing.”

See, behind my smile and my calm demeanor I’ve been a grade A jerk today. Baby Ruth would tell me that thinking it is almost as bad as saying it. I supposed I should feel bad about it, but the truth is I’m too tired to care right now. And I’m not done with the day yet. Anyone who crosses my path is likely to get a piece of my mind, if you know what I mean. Oops. There’s the phone, and it looks like it’s that lab that wants me to pay for something my insurance has already paid. Care to guess what I’m thinking?

1 comment:

janjanmom said...

Southern Polite:

Bless her little heart, she's as ugly as a mud fence.

Yes, she is as big as a barn but she has such a pretty face.

He's a few bricks shy of a full-load but he sure is a nice feller.