Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Dumb Tongue 5/14/08

I have a low tolerance for bullshit (an even lower one for dogshit, but horseshit is ok by me - interesting how Microsoft allows "horse" and "bull" to be connected to "shit" with no static, but "dogshit" brings up a red squiggle).

I'm the person that will call someone out on taking CUTS, and I'm definitely THAT snippy snip who tells you to shut the fuck up if you're yapping next to me at the movies (if your cell rings during a flick, I'll destroy it without blinking).
It's gotten my ass kicked a few times, no question, but I can't seem to help myself.

Once, I was driving with a friend to Orlando and between there and Tampa the exits are a bit creepy (a la "Deliverance"). We stopped at some gas station called "Skeeters" or some such name that most assuredly had "Bob's" as the suffix (Jim-Bob's, Joe-Bob's, or Bob-Bob's), and I went in to pay alone.

I got in line behind 3 little girls, who were next to buy candy behind some non-descript woman. Just as said woman was finishing her transaction, this gi-normous trucker came in and blatantly inserted himself right in front of the girls like they were invisible.

Out of reflex, I playfully blurted "Hey, no CUTS Cowboy!"

He turned around, looked at the girls, then me and smugly replied "I don't see nobody." (Let me note for visual and political purposes that the kids were black, I was about half way through my "Goth" phase at the time, and the trucker looked like someone that ceremonially licks confederate flags when whacking off.)

My 5'2 stature doesn't even intimidate a feral cat, let alone a 6'4, redneck racist, but somehow my mouth missed that judgment call, and I completely unleashed on that ass hole. Nothing gets my hackles up like racism, except sexism, but they usually go hand in hand (most racists are sexist and homophobes to boot, it's a package deal…check for details at your local Wal Mart).

I didn't want to make it about race in front of those kids, so instead, I called him a "dickless piece of shit that only feels like a man when demeaning females" hoping to give it a sexist angle. Not that sexism is any better than racism; no one likes to feel "less than" in any capacity, but at least if it was sexist, it didn't paint the girls as the sole targets of his sick rudeness.

"Dickless" seemed unfettered by my barbs, at least I thought so till he made for the door and casually slammed me down into a rack of genetically modified goods along his way. The force knocked me pretty hard, and when tailbone meets cement floor, it's so not a party. It's more akin to that funny bone pain (x 10) one gets that completely stuns you, momentarily seizing your breath. Being on the receiving end of a "back punch" has similar results. Anyone with siblings can attest to that.

I walked away with a bruised tailbone, some cuts, scrapes, heaps of disappointment, and a buttload of shock. I usually got away with shooting my mouth off. Not this time. You'd think being batted around a bit would deter me in future, but the Chihuahua in me that's unaware of size differences, is in full belief that verbally expelling at any injustice is standard protocol, despite the consequences.

Last week at the Radiohead concert (yeah I'm never gonna shut up about them, ever) the seats to my left were no-shows, till these drunken behemoths filled them half way through "15 Step". I was standing, happily glued to my binoculars when the WIDE one slammed into me, imposing himself right into my line of vision. I didn't even pull the binoculars from my eyes as I swiftly shoved him out of the way. A knee jerk reaction, and a mighty pissy one at that, but it was my seat, my band, and NOTHING was gonna knock me around without threats of a possible skull fracture that evening.

Luckily, he wasn't a total tool and he apologized for his clumsiness, of course, not till after I Satanically coughed and sneezed all over him (should be filling his script for Cipro about now, sinus infections apparently are contagious-oops).
I suggested that since he was bigger, he should get situated behind me as the rows were quite wide. Then he could flail around all he wanted. We switched places, and rainbows shot out of both of our asses in tandem. All was right with the world once again, sans bloodshed.

Odd how initially getting physical worked out better than the verbal. I guess next time someone takes CUTS, I'll punch them in the throat.

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