The Story Of The Sweet Potato And The Rude ManOctober 26, 2012 - Author: newscoma - Comments are closed
It’s been one of those weeks where I’ve been sick, on a cornucopia of over-the-counter and borrowed drugs, I’ve been alone a lot and I’ve been incredibly busy where the only short-term payoff is being immensely tired. So when these things are combined, sometimes my human comes out in large tendrils of emotion and sharpened teeth.
There are times that are bodies just plum give out on us and we have to take a few days to regenerate. We aren’t all Doctor Who, my friends, where a newer and younger version of ourselves shows up with an attractive companion.
In the business I’m in, emotions aren’t always really allowed and that’s okay I guess. Last night, for the first time in a bit I went to dinner because I needed this crazy thing called protein. A man decided during my late afternoon outing that he needed to start a loud monologue at me about politics. My bullshitometer broke. It broke in a thousand pieces. All I wanted was a sweet potato doused in butter and pepper and a beer. I was healing from the cold but sometimes you heal from the sickness but you aren’t quite over the fatigue.
If you are going to bark at me when I’m having a few moments of time in an intimate relationship with a sultry and deliciously cooked sweet potato, you may not get what you bargain for.
Listen, I’m all about conversations and love them. I do. I like to engage and be engaged with people that are different than me. Anyone who knows me realizes that this is true. I don’t like it however when you elevate your voice to me, sigh heavily when I’m trying to be nice and bark at how wrong I am. I realize that you may not agree with me, you don’t have to, but for the love of all that is civil, back the hell up.
So the bullshitometer broke and I said no. I said NO and I meant it. My sweet potato was getting cold and the mood was breaking. You do NOT want any intimate moment (even if it is a dense fibrous food) to be messed with and annihilated And I said something I rarely say and that was “Dude, you blew it when I asked you twice to be nice. I love a conversation but I am in no mood for your Shakespearean monologue and when you point at my iPad and demand I look up stuff for you to engage in a straw argument, it’s not going to happen. You are being rude. GO AWAY.”
He looked startled but I must have had eyes that were on fire. I had engaged this man pleasantly for about five minutes. I said I would be more than willing to talk in the future and have a discussion with him. I mentioned more than once that I was under the weather as I batted my eyes at my lovely and well-cooked sweet potato. He pushed it, and although I am pretty congenial, I had enough and I pushed back.
And I pushed back hard by simply reminding him that I offered him a future conversation when I felt better. Also remember, my iPad is mine and not yours. If you demand I look something up while you are speaking to me in a harsh tone, especially when I’m trying to have a pleasant dinner and conversation with a friend, I won’t. Write it down.
I think he got the point. He seemed pretty sheepish. I think I might have turned into Reagan from The Exorcist. I’m not sure. I just am a fan of etiquette and manners.
Here is the deal, conversations are great but they don’t just happen because one party wants them to happen. If you consider yourself an activist or you are a candidate on either side of the aisle, being nice isn’t hard. Take a hint because you can get more flies with honey than you can with cow excrement Treat people like you want to be treated. A please and a thank you and a civil tone doesn’t hurt anyone and everyone should remember that. Conversations are fantastic, but don’t force it for pete’s sake.
Be nice and remember, if I have a cold and am having a sweet potato if it goes cold because you are pouncing on me, I might pounce back.
Word to the wise, treat people the way you want to be treated. If you don’t, then don’t be surprised if they dismiss you because most likely it will be a permanent thing.
Moral of the story is I try to be nice. That doesn’t give others license to be aggressive with me. End of story.