Moon Theatre

Mr. Stinky and I went shopping. I saw something in a store that looked interesting and told him I wanted to try it on. He moaned something pitiful and told me he'd wait outside. I'm used to his sudden bouts of tiredness, you should see it. His eyes all of a sudden become bloodshot, his face gets all haggard like he hasn't slept in days and he physically deflates into a helpless little blob. It's quite interesting, the morphology of defeat.

So y'all know that I have a butt of which I'm proud to own. I can admit that I've checked out my apple of a heiny more than once, we don't all hate our rears. I guess one of yous needed proof, or wanted to admire it too. Whichever the case, while I was trying on a skirt (which I didn't buy coz it was just OK) I heard a woman's panicked voice asking where her blouse was. Why the hysteria? Some people just like to make a scene is all. As I was bent over pulling the skirt down the drapes to my fitting room wooshed opened and I stood face to face and ass with Ms. Hysteria and her 5 year old son.

She didn't close my drape upon realizing her stupidity, just stared at me and bleated some more about her missing blouse. I was mass mooning the entire store too, in case you forgot. I didn't adjust the skirt because, what was the point by then?

Fitting rooms are small, it was obvious her blouse wasn't in there with me unless it had somehow shrunk into the pretty pink thong that was now on show and tell. I hope her son got a good look, I hope he asked her lots of interesting questions afterwards too.

A saleslady had to come close my drape because while she stood there like an idiot asking me the same retarded question repeatedly, all I could do was stare back in annoyance. A tumbleweed rolled by... or maybe just a dust bunny. Whatever.

Honestly, how do some people function in society? She had no manners, not an ounce of decency and her overall behaviour just floored me. Oh well, I suppose expecting people to be "normal" is too much to ask for these days. At least I have a nice ass. She must've been mesmerized. And jealous.

Flipped

I have this weird oddity of putting my underwear on inside out.

I don't know why or how it happens as I usually check before slipping them on. That's right, I said "slipping them on". Sexy aren't I?

But then I'll go somewhere and use the washroom, only to discover too late that once again the seams are facing out.

I have no explanation for this phenomenon, it's not an everyday thing but it occurs often enough and over a long enough period of time that I felt it should be shared.

Sorry for the imagery.

No I'm not.

Meany

There’s a person I have regular contact with, and I’ve always associated her with me ending up in a fiery hell. Even today, all morning and most of the afternoon everytime I thought about my feelings towards this person it would invariably end with “I’m so going to hell”.

This person is physically handicapped but mentally fine. I only see her a few days a week but it’s enough to rub my nerves raw and most days if I don’t avoid her I try to ignore her. I know it’s completely rude but it’s the only way I can deal with the situation without being labelled discriminatory or politically incorrect. As much as I bathe in the freedom of being unPC, we know that there are always limits as to how much you can express freedom of speech, thought and anything else out there. I know that. So do you. And when you read about what I think of this person you may still think that I have a thing against special needs people. But I don’t. To me they’re still people, just sometimes visibly different in some way.

So this lady bothers me because it is my belief that she plays up her handicap. She frequently shifts from happy to depressed in the span of minutes according to the level of attention meted out to her. She has a habit of calling, seeing and phoning people up several times a day, dismissing the fact that most of us are bogged down with work and busy, to ask them if she could ask them a question, then profusely apologizing for being rude followed by begging to please keep it between us. You could spend 10 minutes with her trying to figure out what exactly it is she wants and come out of it having gotten nowhere. She needs the attention to feed itself because there really isn’t anything she wanted in the first place other than the person’s sympathy. Almost 5 years I've known her and we've never once had a conversation that went anywhere.

She will stand at the doorways of offices, sigh deeply and wait patiently until someone looks up to ask her what’s wrong. Then she will sigh some more, wave her hand at you and pitifully tell you that she doesn’t want to talk, or that it’s nothing, or that she’s very upset before wandering away to find someone else who might be more comforting. I see her as a person who does nothing but waste my time by using her handicap as a crutch to garner charity and so I try not to engage in her little game by ignoring her whenever possible.

But then a lightbulb went off and now I feel justification in my distaste for her. Sure I’m still going to hell but that’s for a multitude of reasons, not for any one specific thing. I shouldn’t feel guilty for not liking this person because it’s not her difference that bothers me, it’s her personality. OK, there’s still a little bit of leftover guilt because for some reason there's an arcane rule that if you feel an iota of negativity towards a person of special needs, that’s just extra wrong because you must be looking down on them. But on the whole, I couldn’t care less about her disability. I now realize that I saw past it eons ago and what we’ve got left is just a clash of personalities. And you could say that perhaps her attitude stems from her lifelong handicap and therefore, indirectly I’m still a horrid person but I believe that somewhere, we need to draw that line in the sand and make a decision. I won’t wallow back and forth any longer about my guilt, her bothersome nature and the way I should treat her. I have the right to feel the way I do and be civil to her when she’s up while walking away when she makes a show of being down.

She is the boy who cried wolf and I’m finally able to see that. I won't be damned because I'm unwilling to play the game.

Boogerific

Today after lunch as I stood at the sink brushing my teeth, another woman made use of the other sink. I don't know her name since she's not in our section but I see her regularly. She must be the most miserable person on earth because in all the time we've worked in the same vicinity together I have never seen her smile once. She actually walks around with the most dour expression on her face, like she's got a permanent pickle up her butt. I don't think she has any mien other than perpetual pissed off, remember that whole "don't make faces coz your face will freeze like that" saying? Yah.

Anyway, back to the story. So I'm busy making those neat, little circles on my teeth when she turns on the tap, leans into the sink and hocks out a loogie. Mmm. Then she blew her nose into her hand.

She must've made a handful because from the squishy, soggy sounds I determined that the boogie chambers were definitely full. You know at the height of cold and flu season when you're hesitant to blow your nose in public because of how gross you know it's going to sound? And the sheer volume of nose goo which means several Kleenexes are necessary for one blow absolutely guarantees that it will be an insufferably painful minute for everyone around? This was one of those. I was quite shocked, as it's not an activity I'm used to at the sinks, and very grossed out. You know how easy it is to gag with a toothbrush in your mouth? It's extra easy when you're subject to gag-inducing, nasty nose blows. I couldn't even feign nonchalance and turned my back fully to her so that I could continue brushing my teeth while staring at the wall tiles. If I had to listen to her Sound of Mucus at least I could avoid accidentally catching a glimpse with the wayward peripheral vision that always seem to get HD sharp when disgusting stuff is happening around me.

I was trying so hard not to vomit lunch through my toothpaste that I lost track of where the neat, little circles were going and just kept brushing away mechanically willing her to finish up and go away. I think she started to take in water with her mouth and expressing it through her nostrils for that extra deep clean. I lost my vision momentarily as the sounds of her swishing and burbling away overcame me but I prevailed and never once turned around.

She finally finished and left the washroom. I summoned all my powers to not look into her sink for whatever leftovers might be there and locked my eyes straight ahead. I managed to spit, rinse, clean my sink and leave the washroom without looking but the sounds of her snotcapade lingers. I hope we never meet in the washroom again, it's enough that I have to see this severely morose person on a daily basis. I really don't need to be audience to her evacuations as well.

Unwritten Truths

Sometimes therapy is served by the mere writing/typing of what I really want to say instead of really making those feelings public. Sometimes you realize that to open the can of worms really does make things messier than you want them to become.

Something happened last week which enraged me. On the anger meter you might be able to see "pissed off" if you squinted really hard backwards into the horizon on a clear, sunny day. I banged out what I wanted to be made known but had the smarts to not post it because in the end all I needed to do was put it down, even if it was only for myself. Don't worry, you probably wouldn't have understood it if I did publish as roughly 40 of the 50 words were of the no-no kind, linguistically... you might've instead thought I was chanting some x-rated cheer or something.

Besides, sometimes when shit like that happens you inevitably get questions from people asking what it was that made you so angry in the first place but by then your fire's died down to embers and it really wasn't as monumental as while the situation was going on. Then you've created a situation where you've got more questions than you want to answer and not much hot air left with which to blow. My attention span to most everything is extremely short-lived, it probably wasn't worth the two aneurysms I gave myself last week. I need to reconnect with my teenaged self who couldn't care two shits about anything or anyone. Disconnect.

Deny All You Want

What you have isn't a mere sinus infection, a persistent chest cold, bronchitis, post nasal drip or allergies. What you've got is a good case of stupidity and denial going on because you're a smoker. Yah you stinky, hacking piece of trash, you're an idiot if you think those cancer sticks aren't killing you one by one while you greedily suck in your addiction every hour of the day.

OK, so maybe you were diagnosed with any one of those afflictions but that's only because you smoke. All those lovely poisons you're sucking back only serve to enhance and speed up the condition we'll all eventually face called death, however yours is a daily malaise you "just can't seem to understand or shake" which will most likely take you away in a horrible and painful fashion in the end.

Oh wow, am I being a little harsh? I sit across the hallway from a lifetime smoker who is constantly "sick" and spends her day trying to tuck her wet, sloppy, slimy lungs back into her chest after every coughing spasm which racks her body breathless and leaves the rest of us, her audience retching at the sounds we must endure. She's on the phone with clients who must listen to her physically choking on her own phlegm, her hands when she remembers to cover her mouth, are just a breeding ground for all things gross, wet and germy. Then she comes into my office needing information, touching my pens, my monitor, breathing all over me and slurping her insides back in again as yet another fit of coughing overcomes her smoke-filled body.

I know of another smoker who proudly showed me his how-to book on how to stop smoking the day he bought it but the bookmark never made it past the introduction. He reeks of burning garbage after every trip outside which is about once an hour and snapped at me about nagging him when I asked once how his resolution to quit was going.

Hey all you smokers who think it's your own thing so the rest of us needs to butt out, here's the thing: if you didn't litter your butts everywhere, stink up the air for the rest of us, tax our health system because your habit just happens to make you incredibly sick, resulting in a bereaved family left without a mother or father then by all means, smoke yourselves crazy. That bad boy/girl image you thought you'd cultivate? Only in the movies. The raspy, sultry voice you thought you'd use to pick up? Sexy burned up and turned into nasty an entire tobacco plantation ago. If you don't subject me to your disgusting illnesses and sounds then I really don't care how you live your life. But since we've got to sit in our offices and listen to that shit 5 days a week, 8 hours a day I think that it is our business. We didn't ask to be your audience or receptacles of germ spreading, some of us just want to do our work in relative peace and quiet.