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The Verbal Sparring Match

Journal Entry: Tue May 6, 2014, 7:36 PM

We took my mom out tonight for Mother’s Day dinner – yes, a week early, so we could skip crowds and special menus. Dinner went really well, but everything sort of went to Hell in the parking lot.

We left the restaurant and headed toward the car. There was a couple out there – a man and a woman that I assume were husband and wife, and probably also brother and sister. We didn’t think much of them as we passed them, standing in the middle of the busy parking lot smoking cigarettes and complaining about not being able to smoke in the restaurant and how stupid that is (you can’t smoke in restaurants in this state, period. State law). Cars were trying to get around them while they stood there as if it were an empty field.

Getting to the car, I got into the driver seat and my parents got in, mom in the passenger seat, dad in the back seat. Just as they got in, the man came over as if he were getting into the car next to us. I waited as he slowly reached the driver side and opened the door to his car… then walked back out to finish smoking. Basically, I now couldn’t back the car out without hitting the door of his car with the side view mirror of the car I was driving. To which I thought… screw it. I’ll be happy to forcefully shut your door for you. It won’t cause any damage since my car will be gliding, but if you’re going to be an uber asshole, I’ll let you know what I think of that.

However, the car I was driving was my father’s car, so I don’t think he was happy about it. He told me to stop, so I did. He lowered his window and said to the guy, “Could you please close your car door so we can back out?”

There was nothing inflammatory about the way my father said this, it was just a simple and understandable request. The man looked at my dad cockeyed, but closed the car door before lighting up another smoke with his wife/sister.

Only his wife/sister couldn’t keep her yap shut and began running her mouth about what a jerk my father was, obviously looking for a fight and deciding to start one with a 72 year old man. The language was uncalled for and not exactly family friendly, so we’ll say she called him a “jerk” and you can use your own imagination as to what she really said. She stood there and croaked out her insults about my father loudly while sucking on what was probably the ninth pack of cigarettes she smoked today according to the way her voice sounded.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I don’t tend to lower myself to the level of people. I have spent a lot of time dealing with the general public, and my opinion of them is not good. I allow people to win me over, and many have. But I start out meeting a person with a deep suspicion that they are complete assholes. Basically, I assume everyone is an idiot, this way they have a chance to leave me pleasantly surprised or they confirm my suspicions and I don’t get bothered over it. Works especially well on internet trolls.

But two things came forward in this chance meeting:

  1. I just ended a week where I dealt with an above average quantity of jackasses that left my faith in humanity at an all time low.
  2. You are insulting a member of my immediate family and are making threats of bodily harm toward same.

This is not a good combination.

This triggered my brain into “alter ego mode.” We all have one of those. My alter ego is a sassy little bitch that doesn’t keep her thoughts and feelings to herself. Normally she is saved for opinionated sparring over political views and writing. I normally don’t have to worry about her in normal, everyday run ins. After all, over the years of dealing with the general public, I have gone head to head with a vast array of epicness in the worst humanity has to offer and I handled it professionally.

Which brings us to the third piece of the trio that lead to this… There was no paycheck involved.

So right as this woman finished telling my father the way he should have asked her brother the love toy to not be a prick and what my father could do to himself when she was done doing what she wanted to to him, my alter ego moved forward and spoke before I even thought about it.

“Or you could just be white trash.”

It was a short, simple statement that, oddly, was not untrue. She was the perfect stereotype of white trash with her raspy nine pack a day voice, dirty tank top that hung off her sagging, braless boobs like a torn, overused rag, her stringy hair tied back in a pony tail that could not contain most of that poor hair that hasn’t seen a bottle of shampoo in a month of Sundays, and the black spandex shorts that were several sizes too small and stained with any matter of Lord knows what and I probably don’t want to know.

Sadly, it appeared she was not aware of her white trash status, and her voice cracked as she called me a fat ass in her most infuriated yet deeply injured voice. It is true folks, I am a fat ass. But I have been called much worse but muchbetter. And the originality of her comment made me actually laugh out loud.

“Stay classy, bitch!” I responded as I pulled the car out in a normal, human way. No need to rush. I could glide that thing through the lot and she wouldn’t have the breath to catch us.

I can only assume they were getting heavy use out of the bar inside the restaurant and not buying much else there. But I wasn’t going to escalate the conversation any further than it had gone. I had surprised myself by the brief showing of my alter ego, especially with my parents present. And, frankly, she wasn’t worth more of my time than she’d already stolen.

But let’s face it. Eventually the jackassery of other people gets over the top. I am probably good for a while and won’t have a run in like this again for a good long while. But things just meshed together in just the right way there tonight where I reacted uncharacteristically. After this past week, my tolerance of people was worn thin. I have gotten sick of people picking fights with others for the sake of picking fights with them, people treating other people as if they are beneath them, and people just basically being pricks to each other. Call it entitlement if you want, but what we are facing today is a complete lack of respect for other people around us. I was raised to call people sir and ma’am, to not judge people by the way they look but instead the face they show. I was raised to not get involved with unnecessary confrontation and to never fight with people unless it was in defense of self. But after 34 years of having people belittle me in service jobs, watching other people – including people close to me – belittle wait staff, cashiers in stores, etc., and watching how people seek out others they think were put her to serve them, even if they weren’t, and then treat them with pure disdain and hatefulness, once in a while your inner bitch comes out. I have stood up to defend a waitress that was being berated by a customer. I have jumped over a counter to defend a co-worker from bodily harm by a customer who thought it was his right to injure this guy because, after all, he’s a customer.

I tend to verbally spar in defense of those I love. I have never been in a real physical altercation with anyone, save the guy I jumped over the counter at, but that was life or death, too, and I won’t get into that story here. Normally, I kill people with kindness because it is much more effective. There is something really satisfying about being so kind to a prick that they walk away frustrated that they couldn’t get you. But this happens every so often, and I end up telling people what they really are. This woman was not aware of her white trash status and really thought she was better than my father; she was just enough of a moron that she needed to be told. I was happy to oblige. And I was happy to leave it at that.

And now I start the week fresh. Life is good and I can handle anything. My inner bitch has got my back.

Journal CSS made by caybeach
Brushes by gvalkyrie
  • Mood: Repulsed
  • Reading: Lions of Kandahar - Rusty Bradley
  • Playing: Call of Duty: Ghosts
  • Drinking: Lemonade


Wolfie303's Profile Picture
Artist | Hobbyist | Photography
United States
Current Residence: The South
Favourite genre of music: I listen to everything, mostly country these days, though
Favourite style of art: photography
Operating System: Windows Vista, Browser is Opera
MP3 player of choice: iTunes, iPod Touch
Shell of choice: I dunno, maybe the fighting conch shell
Wallpaper of choice: I'm taken by dots...
Skin of choice: I kind of like my skin, it's pale, but it covers my bones and organs, so my skin is good
Favourite cartoon character: My mom, she's a real character *snicker*
Personal Quote: "Fight for your opinions, but do not believe they contain the whole truth or the only truth.&am

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