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I meant to cut this when I copied-and-pasted it from my MySpace page, but it was really, really late and I just forgot. Either way, I think it pretty much just sums everything up. Hopefully, it's too ambiguous for those not on the inside to fully understand, but not too ambiguous for those on the inside to not.
While I'm sure most, if not all, the parties that which this is directed to do not have a MySpace, I think it would be nice if I spelled this out loud and clear for everyone to read, just so everyone knows where I stand.
Dear F,
Firstly - just because you're friends with benefits with M doesn't necessarily mean she cannot do you wrong. No, I'm not saying she's a liar, and I'm not saying that she's immature enough to stir stupid shit up for the sake of stirring stupid shit up. All I'm saying is that everyone fibs, everyone stretches the truth, everyone exaggerates, and everyone can misunderstand even the simplest words. She. Is. No. Exception. To. This. Rule. Please keep this in mind when you decide to "confront" me (and by "confront" I mean coming up to me thinking you're going to scare me into submission, which quite frankly only results in you looking like a pompous asshole) by telling me that she "wouldn't lie to [you]" about things that have been clearly misunderstood, if not a little exaggerated or stretched on her part a little. I think you fail to see that saying "she wouldn't lie to [you]" is simply a scapegoat, and that there isn't anything I can say to that in my defense when you do so. And the thing is, I know I'm in the right. After all, this is not the first time you came up to me to "confront" me about something that I supposedly said about you -- which had been taken completely out of context at the time -- and, just like last time, I told you I prefer to steer clear of drama. My answer hasn't waivered. So seriously, what the hell makes you think that my stance on drama has changed in even the slightest? Think, F, just stop being so blinded by pussy and fucking think for a moment. You might realize you'll look a lot less immature when you do.
Secondly - while I'm happy you came up to "clear shit up" -- "confront," but I'm content to say you came up and acted like a pompous asshole -- with me regarding a chat that I clearly don't remember taking part in (and which really seems over-exaggerated to me) I'm going to humbly ask you to never touch me again. Don't hug me, don't tap me on the shoulder for my attention, don't even brush by me at work. I used to not mind. But see, the thing is, when you took my shoulders and planted me between two displays, effectively popping my personal bubble and invading my personal space, you essentially cornered a wild animal. I think you've failed to realize that I'm a lot tougher than I look; I've been hardened by people using my size to intimate me. It's the only way a girl of small stature can get by in this world nowadays. And you, good sir, you didn't intimate me at all; you pissed me off. And not only did you piss me off, but you pissed me off so badly that I pity you now. Obviously, it got your rocks off coming up to "confront" me over something so negligible, and it makes me just shake my head in pity, mainly because it leads directly to my last point:
Thirdly - You're almost 40 fucking years old. Grow the hell up, and get over it. People are going to say shit about you, and people are going to mention you in passing. According to my knowledge -- and I'll kindly remind you that this is coming first hand from someone who would rather spoon her eyes out than deal with fucking high school drama -- I happened to have done the latter, and my words got so far blown out of proportion that I don't even know where they are anymore. It just so happened that the person who blew my words out of proportion is the person who's getting you off at night, which automatically makes her immune to any fault and makes me the bad guy. Well, ain't that just a lovely crock of bullshit. The thing is, under any normal circumstances, I would be happy to tell you that what you two do together is your business and not mine, and I'm just going to look the other way and stay out of it. But the thing is, after all this happy crap, I can't not avoid it anymore, because it's starting to annoy me. And I know I'm not the only one who's annoyed, either. Regardless and back to the original point, however, you're an adult. Should you give a rats fucking ass if someone half your age thought you fucked up a little and mentioned it in passing like I did -- especially if you're only getting paid $7/hr while doing it? No. So then why fucking bother?
Yes, I did say it was fucked up that you get more hours than other people do despite the fact that you have a full-time job that pays better. I told you I said that. However, M was the first one to point that out, and after I realized that I pointed it out to one other person later, who was having the same hour-trouble as me. Because it is fucked up. It's fucked up because there are people there who depend on those hours, who can't get a job anywhere else for a while due to scheduling conflicts, and essentially you're draining their chances of getting any money to afford the gas to drive out for their one fucking day a week. And why? Well, if you want me to be honest, I think it's because you want more pussy. You obviously don't need the money, you have another job. And you can't really love working there. But you work with a chick whom you like lots, and she likes you too. So what else am I -- and everyone else who's having a problem right now -- going to think?
But did I tell her I was going to do a job so that "you know who" wouldn't come in and mess it up? No. I'm not that fucking childish. All I said -- implied, while we're at it -- was that I wanted to get the job done before the night crew got in so that they didn't have to do it later. Obviously, you're too good for that kind of help, I get it. So don't expect me to try and be that nice to you anymore. If you'd rather take the time to do it yourself, great, that's one less job for me to do when I'm doing midshifts.
In simplest terms, your shit doesn't smell like roses, and neither does hers. No one's perfect, everyone's going to fuck something up now and again, and ultimately everyone's going to exaggerate things from time to time. It's called being human. Also, just because someone is your friend with benefits doesn't mean that they are immune to telling you the wrong thing, or stretching the truth. Everyone does it. That's life. Get used to it. That said, keep in mind that just because someone has a problem with something you've done doesn't mean that they hate you. My advice? Stop being so fucking conceited. It's unbecoming.
*
Dear M,
Firstly - Yes, I know you like him lots. But seriously. Since when did we start changing people's words around to make us look like little angels? If I remember correctly, you were the first one to mention him "having a full time job and still getting more hours than some people," not me. I simply agreed, and reiterated that fact to someone else -- who was standing right next to me when you first said it, no less! So, I'm confused. Unless I'm living in some alternate universe and that's not really what went down, I'm seriously wondering what happened when my real words got all mangled and turned around. Better yet, I don't want to know what happened -- I want to know why. Honestly, it looks like to me that you didn't want to be the one at fault and picked the most-likely candidate (which was me, given how I'm so opinionated) and then mangled what all really happened in order to make you look less at fault. I can dig this. It's opportunistic. It's survival of the fittest; may the best one win. If the tables were turned, I'd probably do the same -- though I highly doubt I would do it over something so fucking trivial. But, opportunist or not, there's only one truth. And that truth is: you mentioned it to me first, in confidence, and then I reiterated it to a third party who was already standing there, in confidence. Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, and we continued on with the day. That was the end of it. At least, that's what me and the third party thought, anyway. Then all of a sudden a simple conversation over a simple observation gets way too blown out of proportion and effectively blows up in my face. Well, that's cool. I can dig it, I guess. Except, I won't.
I guess it goes to show that you can't even discuss things in confidence with a friend anymore when you work behind the counter.
Secondly - You know, I don't even have another one. I just want to fucking know what the hell happened to the part where you agreed with me regarding everything we discussed when we were having the conversation that has now been heard 'round the cafe. Since when can I not have conversations with you in confidence anymore?
Either way, that's just fine and dandy; because you were the last person that I wanted to distrust. I'm not sure how I feel now.
*
So here's the thing: leave me out of your high school drama. Everyone talks. Sometimes it's about things, sometimes it's about future plans, sometimes it's about people. Especially about people. And yes, I know, I'm opinionated, I know I let everyone know what I think. I'm a writer; that's what I do. And I do recognize that being opinionated and letting everyone know what I think comes off as complaining all the damn time. But that's just how it is. That's just how I do it, and that's just how I roll. I'm sorry if you have a problem with that, but that's why we, as humans, were given the gift of tuning shit out. So tune it out. After all, if I have to deal with both of yall's "friends with benefits" flirting -- particularly the kind when M is screaming from the kitchens and the people at the tables are looking up at me like there's a serial killer on the loose -- while I'm trying to work, the least you can do is ignore me when I'm going off in a tangent about something.
So what did we learn today class? People need to grow the fuck up and put on the big-boy/girl pants when shit hits the fan.
While I'm sure most, if not all, the parties that which this is directed to do not have a MySpace, I think it would be nice if I spelled this out loud and clear for everyone to read, just so everyone knows where I stand.
Dear F,
Firstly - just because you're friends with benefits with M doesn't necessarily mean she cannot do you wrong. No, I'm not saying she's a liar, and I'm not saying that she's immature enough to stir stupid shit up for the sake of stirring stupid shit up. All I'm saying is that everyone fibs, everyone stretches the truth, everyone exaggerates, and everyone can misunderstand even the simplest words. She. Is. No. Exception. To. This. Rule. Please keep this in mind when you decide to "confront" me (and by "confront" I mean coming up to me thinking you're going to scare me into submission, which quite frankly only results in you looking like a pompous asshole) by telling me that she "wouldn't lie to [you]" about things that have been clearly misunderstood, if not a little exaggerated or stretched on her part a little. I think you fail to see that saying "she wouldn't lie to [you]" is simply a scapegoat, and that there isn't anything I can say to that in my defense when you do so. And the thing is, I know I'm in the right. After all, this is not the first time you came up to me to "confront" me about something that I supposedly said about you -- which had been taken completely out of context at the time -- and, just like last time, I told you I prefer to steer clear of drama. My answer hasn't waivered. So seriously, what the hell makes you think that my stance on drama has changed in even the slightest? Think, F, just stop being so blinded by pussy and fucking think for a moment. You might realize you'll look a lot less immature when you do.
Secondly - while I'm happy you came up to "clear shit up" -- "confront," but I'm content to say you came up and acted like a pompous asshole -- with me regarding a chat that I clearly don't remember taking part in (and which really seems over-exaggerated to me) I'm going to humbly ask you to never touch me again. Don't hug me, don't tap me on the shoulder for my attention, don't even brush by me at work. I used to not mind. But see, the thing is, when you took my shoulders and planted me between two displays, effectively popping my personal bubble and invading my personal space, you essentially cornered a wild animal. I think you've failed to realize that I'm a lot tougher than I look; I've been hardened by people using my size to intimate me. It's the only way a girl of small stature can get by in this world nowadays. And you, good sir, you didn't intimate me at all; you pissed me off. And not only did you piss me off, but you pissed me off so badly that I pity you now. Obviously, it got your rocks off coming up to "confront" me over something so negligible, and it makes me just shake my head in pity, mainly because it leads directly to my last point:
Thirdly - You're almost 40 fucking years old. Grow the hell up, and get over it. People are going to say shit about you, and people are going to mention you in passing. According to my knowledge -- and I'll kindly remind you that this is coming first hand from someone who would rather spoon her eyes out than deal with fucking high school drama -- I happened to have done the latter, and my words got so far blown out of proportion that I don't even know where they are anymore. It just so happened that the person who blew my words out of proportion is the person who's getting you off at night, which automatically makes her immune to any fault and makes me the bad guy. Well, ain't that just a lovely crock of bullshit. The thing is, under any normal circumstances, I would be happy to tell you that what you two do together is your business and not mine, and I'm just going to look the other way and stay out of it. But the thing is, after all this happy crap, I can't not avoid it anymore, because it's starting to annoy me. And I know I'm not the only one who's annoyed, either. Regardless and back to the original point, however, you're an adult. Should you give a rats fucking ass if someone half your age thought you fucked up a little and mentioned it in passing like I did -- especially if you're only getting paid $7/hr while doing it? No. So then why fucking bother?
Yes, I did say it was fucked up that you get more hours than other people do despite the fact that you have a full-time job that pays better. I told you I said that. However, M was the first one to point that out, and after I realized that I pointed it out to one other person later, who was having the same hour-trouble as me. Because it is fucked up. It's fucked up because there are people there who depend on those hours, who can't get a job anywhere else for a while due to scheduling conflicts, and essentially you're draining their chances of getting any money to afford the gas to drive out for their one fucking day a week. And why? Well, if you want me to be honest, I think it's because you want more pussy. You obviously don't need the money, you have another job. And you can't really love working there. But you work with a chick whom you like lots, and she likes you too. So what else am I -- and everyone else who's having a problem right now -- going to think?
But did I tell her I was going to do a job so that "you know who" wouldn't come in and mess it up? No. I'm not that fucking childish. All I said -- implied, while we're at it -- was that I wanted to get the job done before the night crew got in so that they didn't have to do it later. Obviously, you're too good for that kind of help, I get it. So don't expect me to try and be that nice to you anymore. If you'd rather take the time to do it yourself, great, that's one less job for me to do when I'm doing midshifts.
In simplest terms, your shit doesn't smell like roses, and neither does hers. No one's perfect, everyone's going to fuck something up now and again, and ultimately everyone's going to exaggerate things from time to time. It's called being human. Also, just because someone is your friend with benefits doesn't mean that they are immune to telling you the wrong thing, or stretching the truth. Everyone does it. That's life. Get used to it. That said, keep in mind that just because someone has a problem with something you've done doesn't mean that they hate you. My advice? Stop being so fucking conceited. It's unbecoming.
*
Dear M,
Firstly - Yes, I know you like him lots. But seriously. Since when did we start changing people's words around to make us look like little angels? If I remember correctly, you were the first one to mention him "having a full time job and still getting more hours than some people," not me. I simply agreed, and reiterated that fact to someone else -- who was standing right next to me when you first said it, no less! So, I'm confused. Unless I'm living in some alternate universe and that's not really what went down, I'm seriously wondering what happened when my real words got all mangled and turned around. Better yet, I don't want to know what happened -- I want to know why. Honestly, it looks like to me that you didn't want to be the one at fault and picked the most-likely candidate (which was me, given how I'm so opinionated) and then mangled what all really happened in order to make you look less at fault. I can dig this. It's opportunistic. It's survival of the fittest; may the best one win. If the tables were turned, I'd probably do the same -- though I highly doubt I would do it over something so fucking trivial. But, opportunist or not, there's only one truth. And that truth is: you mentioned it to me first, in confidence, and then I reiterated it to a third party who was already standing there, in confidence. Wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, and we continued on with the day. That was the end of it. At least, that's what me and the third party thought, anyway. Then all of a sudden a simple conversation over a simple observation gets way too blown out of proportion and effectively blows up in my face. Well, that's cool. I can dig it, I guess. Except, I won't.
I guess it goes to show that you can't even discuss things in confidence with a friend anymore when you work behind the counter.
Secondly - You know, I don't even have another one. I just want to fucking know what the hell happened to the part where you agreed with me regarding everything we discussed when we were having the conversation that has now been heard 'round the cafe. Since when can I not have conversations with you in confidence anymore?
Either way, that's just fine and dandy; because you were the last person that I wanted to distrust. I'm not sure how I feel now.
*
So here's the thing: leave me out of your high school drama. Everyone talks. Sometimes it's about things, sometimes it's about future plans, sometimes it's about people. Especially about people. And yes, I know, I'm opinionated, I know I let everyone know what I think. I'm a writer; that's what I do. And I do recognize that being opinionated and letting everyone know what I think comes off as complaining all the damn time. But that's just how it is. That's just how I do it, and that's just how I roll. I'm sorry if you have a problem with that, but that's why we, as humans, were given the gift of tuning shit out. So tune it out. After all, if I have to deal with both of yall's "friends with benefits" flirting -- particularly the kind when M is screaming from the kitchens and the people at the tables are looking up at me like there's a serial killer on the loose -- while I'm trying to work, the least you can do is ignore me when I'm going off in a tangent about something.
So what did we learn today class? People need to grow the fuck up and put on the big-boy/girl pants when shit hits the fan.