Saturday, February 25, 2012

I May Dress Like An Asian Nail Lady/ Homeless Woman, But At Least I'm Not An Evil Bitch From Hell

It seems like every single time I venture into Wal-Mart, I see someone I know. Especially people that get on my nerves.

For instance, my neighbors might be two of the oldest and weirdest people on the planet. They smell like onions, they dress almost identical to one another, and the neighbor lady has asked me on more than one occasion to save my used, microwave popcorn bags for her. They are annoying and smell weird and I'm pretty sure they watch my house with surveillance cameras, BUT...even when I see them out in public, I am courteous.

I breathe through my mouth, greet them and struggle through the pleasantries. They are never the wiser to the fact that on the soul is causing self-inflicted wounds to deal with the pain of talking to these people.


However, I'm nice to them. I stop and talk to them because.... IT'S THE NICE THING TO DO.

So... the other day, I'm pushing my son in the basket at Wal-Mart, quoting lines from his favorite book, and laughing when, "it" happens.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone that I've known since middle school.

Now, this person isn't an acquaintance that I sort of talk to sometimes about things that do not matter. This person is/was my friend. We had sleepovers and borrowed clothes. We talked about boys and played MASH. We went skating and always kept the other one informed on who said what about who. We were tight, yo.
I could say I always seem to see people I know when I'm dressed terribly, but who am I kidding?
I do sort of dress like an Asian nail lady. However, my inability to be stylishly dressed has never squandered my friendly nature when I see my friends in public. It is my natural instinct to wave, smile (possibly squeal in excitement) and flag them down. Now, it is possible that I'm the annoying person that people try to avoid in public, but I don't think I am.

I don't smell bad, my greetings are normally short and to the point and I have never asked anyone to save their used, microwave-popcorn bags for me. I'm normal...mostly.

Anyway, so I see my friend and excitedly wave.

I see her see me.
I see her smile begin to form...
I see her look at me, from head to toe....
I watch her smile diminish.....slowly.
I watch her straighten her already perfect posture, jut out her obnoxiously perfect chin, tuck her perfectly coiffed hair behind her ear, and adjust the shoulder strap of her 500 dollar purse.
I watch her walk closer to where I'm standing (by the greeting cards and Valentine's stuff)...And then...
I watch her give me this very tight lipped, pitying smile as she walks right by me.


This is the girl who once used my toothbrush because she forgot hers, and didn't want the other girls at the slumber party to make fun of her for not brushing her teeth. This is the girl who once borrowed my jacket to hide the conspicuous stain on her pants where she had been ambushed by terrorists during their monthly visit. This is the girl who I would spend hours talking to on the phone, and doing those stupid teen magazine quizzes with. This is the girl who couldn't get her pantyliners to stick to her unders very well, and in a moment of genius decided to use masking tape...I am the girl that ripped the masking tape from her buttcrack when it got all wadded up back there. We have cried, laughed, and survived middle school and high school together...and now...because I care very little about the brand of clothes that cover my body, and use a purse that most grandmothers are too stylish to carry...she strolls by me like we are complete strangers.

I want to be very clear about something.

I'm not big on how things look. Things can look a million different ways. What I'm interested in is how things really are. I think my most redeeming quality is that I am always the same. I may not always be tactful or tasteful. I cuss too much, chew too many pieces of gum at once and have never had an unexpressed thought in my life...Even with all of these things that probably I need to work on, I have nailed one thing down to a fine art: A person will never leave a conversation with me and not know what I'm thinking or how I feel, and personally...I think that is ten times more valuable than any name brand you can stick on the ass of your jeans that, by the way, were about a size too small.
I don't want anyone to take what I'm saying the wrong way. Some of my favorite people and very best friends that I have ever known live in enormous homes, carry expensive purses and have an exorbitant monthly income. However, they have never turned their nose up at me strolling into their house and plopping down on their couch because I am their friend...ugly purse and all.

In short, I may cuss like a sailor and chew all five pieces of the 35 cent pack of gum at one time.

I may talk too loud.

I may laugh like a donkey.

I may dress like an Asian Nail Lady/Homeless Woman but...

I'll never be an evil bitch from Hell.*

*Unless you treat me like scum of the that case, I will write a blog and tell everyone I know, (and some people I don't) about the time that I ripped wadded up masking tape from your buttcrack.

1 comment:

  1. Good for you, Luc, and I HOPE she reads this and sees what an ASS she has been.
    Sorry she didn't act like a friend should.