Wow, un-fucking-believable. In the past 36 hours I've been yelled at, unjustifiably, by three guys.
First, it's this old prick at this jack shack in East St. Louis named Floyd, an old coot who, on Sunday afternoon, accosted me for something he let me do during the week. On Friday, I had an old ticket from my visit on Thursday he let me in with. On Sunday, I tried doing the same thing with a ticket he gave me from my visit on Saturday. This time, he didn't let me in and I had to pay the $2 cover. I explained to him that he let me in with an old ticket Friday. He didn't understand; he just kept going on about paying a cover and getting a ticket every time.
And finally, when I just let the issue go, and says, "What level of education do you have?" To which I said, "I have plenty," but to which I really wanted to say, "More than yours, you fucking lamebrained coot." How dare he say that to me? This is pissing me off the more I think about it.
The next one's kind of a letdown, but it's the same I've had to deal with all my life. While parked on the way back from getting picked up at the airport this afternoon, I was in the car all alone with My Fucking Father, and after softening the ground between us by asking an innocuous question (to which I answered civilly, because I am a civil person), he starts on me again with the, "Why don't you find a fucking jooooooooooooooob, or if you can't find one, go back to schoooooooooooooooool?" bullshit, complete with his signature whine. It would completely wash off my back if not for the fact that I indeed will lose my job on Friday and will have to find one. This, combined with surgery to get rid of this seton in my asshole, are two dilemmas I haven't been able to come up with explanations for. One I might be able to slide by. Two at the same time and my head hurts.
But nothing right now is pissing me off more than my brother, when I had to go over to his place because my parents decided to buy food and drop it at his house. He has this newfangled technology where he can remotely open his garage from his smartphone, and he did that so Mother could put this food in the garage. But then she was looking for something and failing to find it, so eventually we all got out of the car to scour the garage for ... something.
Turns out they also went to his house to pick up Mother's laptop. Eventually Mother gives up and hands me her smart because she doesn't think she understands him. So I'm listening to his instructions and I can't find this laptop bag, until he eventually says to open the garage door.
"Am I allowed to go inside?" I asked, like a civil person.
"No, you're not. Of course you are!"
"Well, I'm not supposed to go inside. ..."
"Don't be fucking stupid, go inside."
Don't be fucking stupid? Sarcasm while you're at work? Who the fuck does he think he is, 12? I was just talked down to by my brother when we were fucking kids. WE'RE IN OUR LATE THIRTIES! AND HE'S TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT? WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS?!
I have not been spoken to like that from him since ... oh, maybe just after college. So I am shocked, shocked that he would revert to childish language he should have dropped after he graduated high school. Seriously, how dare he, especially since he's going to be a father in May. When he told us the news of their baby I didn't ever imagine him being a dad. Now, I'm as sure as ever he isn't fit to be one.
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By the way, I don't know if it's a coincidence that I had issues with men. I quite enjoy the company of women, as evidenced by my daily sojourns to East St. Louis strip clubs. For some reason my issues with women are different than those with men.
From my childhood, all I could think about dealing with men is through arguments. Sure, I have had many male role models, and the vast majority of interactions I have with males (most people actually) have been good. But for some fucking reason I have to deal with a dickhead, and I'm left thinking that men are just assholes. That was reinforced by my three run-ins I detailed above.
Women on the other hand ... well, they're crazy to deal with when I have run-ins with them, but I don't get the feeling I'm bullied as I am with a man. Maybe that's as sure a sign that I am homosexual as an arrow.
(OK, maybe I went out on a very long and speculative limb there. Just throwing that out.)
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