Impatience can be more amusing.
When someone calls me an impatient bitch, I don’t doubt it. I know I can be. But I also know I can be extremely patient and without being condescending about it. As in the case of the dollar store check-out chick from the other day. I swear she was in a race to see how slow she could actually go. She managed to scan sixteen items in eighteen minutes, albeit she took time out to scratch her chin and then her elbow. I know, I know, I count myself lucky it wasn’t her puss she was scratching. Plus there was the minutes she stopped scanning to look up at the mental health client coming up behind me.
How do I know she was a mental health client?
She had the ability and the dialect of one. “Is this one open?” It was not. As displayed by the worker missing from behind the cash register and the closed sign upon the counter. Then she was unaware of that personal space rule to which all should adhere… “Lady! Are you trying to fondle me with yer tits in my back?”.
From behind my ear “Because my mom called me and told me that a storm was coming and to come home now”. At this, I did a little side-shuffle and chanced a subtle turn in her direction. When really there is no need for subtlety is there? I mean, for the most part, they just concentrate on what’s in front of them. Which was now the slow as a constipated shit check-out chick, for when I stepped sideways the mental health client funnily enough followed me along.
And there she was. Decked out in all her finery…phone, iPod, camera. You ever notice that? That today’s *special people* have all the *stuff*. My redheaded step-sister-in-law never goes anywhere without her little black backpack filled with her gadgets and gizmos. Funny that she can work them, yet not the fucking dishwasher.
I tell yer, never before have I felt so surrounded by so many of the off kilter. Seriously. That’s not to infer Aussie’s can’t be one kangaroo short in the top paddock. I guess they’re just more spread out, so contact is minimal. In the confines of one day I must come across at least half a dozen episodes of the not-quite-rights and that’s not including my immediate family of in-laws. Just the other day I had the LittleFatBastid say to me, that I was definitely a head case. Naturally, I took bloody affront to that and thought pot. calling. kettle. black. But really, it is a concern of mine. As I do believe, mental health [the lack in it] can be catching.
Now stay with me here people. Have you ever thought or uttered dammit YOU make me fucken crazy. Or that sometimes you have to sink to their level to get their comprehension…I’m always afraid I’ll get stuck there. Haha. It’s just as well that I have an accomplice to join me in the battle with the dimwitted.
Now for a **Highlight of my Day** the neighbour LynnWithTheLooseVaginalLips, who is never a positive representative of what is self respect and all decency yelled out across our yards that she’s “gunna git herself some tonight” as she and her latest beau [for the night] entered her trailer.
11 comments on Patience May Be a Virtue, But…
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Oh my God, I'm cracking up over here![LOL][LOL][THUMBUP][THUMBUP]
that.....is awesome.i love it.
Yes, Twinkies are well off in the technology department these days. I was kind of hoping you would use your creativity to paint a picture of her.
Afraid of being stuck there....HA! I feel ya, sista.
Good thing you were patient with the cashier. You stand out among that crowd, eh, so they'll probably remember you. The accent negates your anonymity.