Saturday, June 24, 2006

Honesty dichotomy

I've been thinking about this dilemma for awhile now. After encountering what seems like daily situations that call for some type of personality altering, unable to say what you really want to say but instead having to juggle 14 flaming bullshit balls and/or mustering from the deepest depth of the better, nicer part of your soul, restraint and a thin smile of control followed by a calm retort instead of the double fisted neck punch you'd rather wield, I ask you this;

Are we truly honest?

For those of us running around bragging about how we tell it like it is sistah friend z-snap! Do we really? Do we really offer up genuine frankness to family, friends, strangers alike or do we only think we do. Or an even better question, is it even fucking possible to do so? Can we, you, I, whatever, actually say what's scrolling on the message board in our heads? I don't know.

Mind you, I'm not talking about the runny verbal malaria that some people dribble down their falsely stoic chins that leave you saying, now was that fucking necessary? Or the inappropriate utterings that some people can't manage to keep inside their size 16 brains crammed into a size 4 skull, such as, my GOD your hair looks like a birds nest that was blown out of a tree in a class 4 hurricane then torn apart by wild hamsters right after a tribe of pygmy's shit on it. Because that would not be cool.

I'm talking about being able to, having the right to, is it alright to, state facts. Not to injure, but to alleviate the incredible amount of god damn bullshit we have to take in and dish out when in fact a nice hot steaming plate of candor would smell as sweet as summer roses in the sun. At least sometimes. Sweet jesus, just sometimes.

For instance, I recently had a conversation with a known dingbat at my company. This person has always been a dingbat and will forever be a dingbat. She used to send me paperwork that was never, ever correct. Fucking hell, how hard is it to remember to sign something? The first few times I always give someone a break, understanding that most people need to get into the swing of things. But after 4 SOLID YEARS of calling and correcting the dingbat I realized she gave much, much less than a cheeto-sized shit about any of it and my patience went out the window right with my kindness. Or my version of kindness which is the absence of irritation because I am a nice person. See?

Anyway, I saw her in the cafeteria and thought I'd stop and say hi. It was the first Tuesday of the month you see and that's the day I always set aside to be nice to one person for five minutes. We proceeded to have this strangely passive-aggressive chat where I'd say something like, "yea, I really prided myself in being the expert" and she'd reply with an uppity air about her, "oh yes, I had a whole list of things I had to do so I wouldn't get screamed at by Betty." ~snotty smile~

OK, first thing, I rarely if ever scream. If I did, people 2 states away would hear it and something would be mentioned on your local 5:00 news. Secondly, you smug slut, maybe if you bothered to read company policy or my directions oh, lets say, just one of the 17 thousand times I sent them to you you wouldn't have to get continually schooled by me after doing them consistently wrong for YEARS ON END. And please excuse me while I fantasize about shoving your dingbat face into your beef with broccoli until you're blowing meat bubbles through your nose.

This retardation went on for a few more minutes until I rolled my eyes and walked away. While thinking what a waste of time that crap was and why did I do that I also thought to myself, how awesome would it have been to have busted out with some unadulterated, pure honesty? I imagined putting my hand 2 inches from her nose in the universal sign for STOP and simply saying, "OK. This conversation is over. You are stupid and I don't like you. I've never liked you. You're kind of a bitch and we don't have to ever talk again. OK? OK." See? No blood shed, just an end to CRAP.

Calling someone to the carpet wouldn't have to be a throw-down all the time, but more like a revelation that we don't have to do that dance with each other any more. The relief would be palpable and the satisfaction sweet. But of course you can't do that, especially in the corporate world where things are run like a high school gym locker where you titter and gossip behind the head cheerleaders back that she's a drunken whore but you have to kiss her ass in person or your life is ruined. Come to think of it, that sounds like life in general.

I dream of a time when we'll all be able to tell some fucker on the other end of the phone who has some aspect of your life in their hands that they need to stop talking to you like you're a petulant child with the IQ of Paris Hilton minus the bank account. Oh, you wanted to see the doctor soon? Does 4:00 a.m. September 2015 work for you? Please hold.

But as it stands now, you can't call them on their ego trip because they can fuck you up. And trust me, many, many times I have verbally smacked someone around for being a dick and it's has come back to haunt me. Even when I had every right to tell the nasty piece of work that they were as ridiculous as a pig in a prom dress and save the attitude Mary, you're a RECEPTIONIST.

And don't even think that you can tell someone who's supposed to be your friend that they're shit-nut crazy and nearly every one of their personal crises are lame. That is impossible. Might as well tie yourself to a stake and light the match.

Years ago I took some American Sign Language classes and I was really interested to learn that deaf people don't have as many fiberglass walls of fabrication like the rest of us do. They just tell it like it is. I can't remember the genesis of that cultural difference but it made sense. They were naturally tougher skinned and it took a lot less time and effort to communicate with each other, especially if you were trying to eat a 1 pound super mega burrito or something. You'd need both hands.

But we're really not groomed to do that and in our world of the uber-PC, it's hardly possible. God forbid you tell someone the truth, they'll sue you for emotional bruising and I really think a large percentage of people have turned into control freaks and in this wacky world we live in people need to exert any tiny speck of control they can.

This is why the kid in customer service for your local cable company is such a god damn nasty assbusting shitstain smacking gum in your ear and audibly sighing with boredom when you call to complain that your internet connection has gone down for the 19th time and then "transfers" you to the repair department which ends up being a dial tone.

Furthermore, we women naturally get the short end of the stick in the honesty bizness since we are raised to just smile and look pretty, don't make waves dear, be a good girl. Or in other words, keep your mouth shut. Well, I say that's crap. We all need to carry a pair of balls in our Kate Spades and be brave enough to take them out and shake them in someone's face and speak up for ourselves when it's warranted.

But if you can't do this as often as you'd like, blog. For fuckssake, write about it.


I'd starting writing this slightly disjointed please forgive me I'm distracted post before I saw a great meme on my friend Kat's blog. She's a kick-ass chick with a chili pepper sense of humor and more brains than should be allowed. Go read her stuff when you have a chance. In the meantime, I'm taking her challenge.

The idea is to write 15 honest statements to anyone you want to, dead or alive, past or present, but no names. And I'd love it if you'd join me (all 4 of you) on your own blogs or better yet, say something in my comments. And remember, you can say anything you want to, just leave out the names, especially if you're writing about me.

Here are mine:

1. You should be banished to a small island with only enough food to keep you fed for a week at a time but you only get supplies once a month.

2. I think you're a really bad parent and shouldn't have had kids.

3. I purposefully manipulate your feelings because you fucked me over once, bad enough that you need to pay for it until I think you're done.

4. I knew you were bad from the start but I dove in anyway.

5. You were not as smart as I am and I respected you less because of it.

6. No, it was not good for me too. I looked at my watch over your shoulder the whole time.

7. I think you're stupid for letting him back into your life over and over and over.

8. We get along OK but really I think you're a creepy serial killer who probably has people buried under your house.

9. I don't read your blog because I'm seething with jealousy over your fan base and the attention you receive.

10. I know you've had a hard time loving me but I've learned you did the best you could.

11. I hate you for what you did and I'll never forgive you.

12. You are certifiably ca-razy.

13. I know you only come to me when you need something.

14. I'll always regret not having the guts to kiss you when I had the chance.

15. I. See. Right. Through. You.

No comments: