I want to be a b****!

Look – I know I’ve penned a blog before with my feathered scribe on my Victorian nightstand under my Aladdin style oil lamp. But, this is different. This is me wanting to scream from the rooftop of my quaint, roach-free, NYC walk up loft apartment to the world: “I want to be a b**** and I can’t take it anymore!” Then apologizing profusely and becoming extremely embarrassed if anyone should glance in my direction, and also because I live in Florida.

Seriously, though. I always have to take things back to the store, sometimes send my rank food back to the kitchen, or sometimes even dial a teacher up when my kid gets effed with. But, not any of these circumstances has anyone EVER said to me: “You’re getting what you want because you’re such a BITCH!” 

bitchI apologize about everything. When people run into me and it’s not my fault, whether I’m not doing something fast enough for the impatient arsebung who is standing in front of me breathing down the front of my face, or if they just need a quiet introvert to take their frustrations out on, I apologize. Nobody is ever going to mistake me for the person who confronted the rude barista, or told off’ their evil realtor. Much less how for telling their snooty, opinionated 90 year-old grandmother to “BACK OFF!”

See, people at work and casual friends all know how I operate. They know that they can pretty much insult the almighty living bazongas out of me, and I’ll pretty much sit there and nod politely. Everyone knows this, and that’s why I am ready to step it up a notch. I’m ready to fight with my mean fighting hands and I’m ready to girl slap you right on the left gizzard temple with my nun chucks! (If that’s okay – and you don’t have any better plans in the near future.) Believe me – I have been accused of SO MANY THINGS, and one of them is being non-confrontational. I certainly step it up when I have to. But, only when I am pushed to a furious level. I can definitely add a ‘happy medium’ to this situation, and that’s where I need some assistance.

This didn’t 100% capture my topic, but I was actually feeling a little bitchy, so felt like that was the perfect segue.

Sometimes a RUDE ASS rudie will turn it up full throttle as I drive through to pick up my food during their shift. When they glare at me whilst not uttering a word, roll their eyes and toss my bagged food in my car, I yell enthusiastically: “Thank you so much! Have a blessed day!” I mean seriously. That attitude is never going to score me any respect or credibility points. I super, duper, really want to follow someone around one day and take some mental pointers about how they actually get through their day, get all the respect they deserve, then fall into their bitchy beds at night. I actually have just the person in mind. But, I’m not going to ask him/her. Because, reasons. Joking! (Am I?)

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am ONE hell of a big talker when I’m behind the wheel of my car in my safe environment where I’m surrounded by soccer mom vans and “my kid is a unicorn honor student,” or some weird signage sticker nonsense like that. I can curse like the rest of ’em, flare my nostrils, roll my eyes into the eternal ceiling of infinity, and work my neck and head like nobody’s business. “You bleepedy bleep, cutting me off like that, you bleepy bleep monger!

bitch 3Because I’ve been doing some self reflection and discovery lately, and I think what a big obstacle to my problem really is is that I just don’t like to hurt people’s feelings. If someone comes and shouts a hearty disapproval at something I am truly passionate about and blasts my beliefs and theories out of the water, I kind of just feel like ‘Wow, it must suck to not be able to exercise any control of your motor mouth whatsoever.” Then I smile and nod. Why? Because even though I just got my shit blasted, I really don’t want to do the same thing to you. It’s not fun for me to witness an uncomfortable aftermath, and I certainly don’t want to be the cause of it. I do know that even though I understand why I am the way I am – But, I still need some bitch lessons. I think a good start would be saying “NO!”  This is not something that I am good at saying – ESPECIALLY when backed into a corner on a personal, all up in my space kind of uncomfortable level. When someone asks me to do something way out of line that would constitute receiving a huge party foul, my mind races to think of a nice, tidy white lie to tell. Characteristically so, the un-academy award mediocrity is written all over my face, and the fun ‘friend’ asking for the favor usually knows – this loser is trippin.’  I can’t lie, so please don’t ask me to drive to your house and pick up your kids and take them to school AND HOME AGAIN for a week solid!  Are you crazy? I am not. So, no thank you!! I can sure use some help with my delivery.

You know you would crap your pants if this infestation of cruelty came at you.

Anyhoo – It’s hella frustrating having my disposition and needing to pull out the Bitch card every once and again. Sometimes you need to pull it out at work, at the food court, the day care, or the rodeo. It happens everywhere! So, I am going to start watching and lurking. If you fancy yourself a she devil, a witch spawn, the Bellatrix Lestrange of all bee-yotches, then hit a sister up. I’ve got some straightening out of my soul to take care of, and I need your help, yo.


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