Antisocial Asshole
26 December 2008 by Rosel
After staring at the description of Horses, Rats, Cocks, Pigs of the Chinese calendar, I was suddenly confronted with a shouting match developing between a poor Taiwanese girl whose command of the global language is less than juvenile, and my mother, whose command is slightly more than juvenile, over the inclusion of a tip on the charge to my mother's debit card. Foreseeing the embarrasment that woud follow, I did my best to divert the flow of incomprehensible high-pitched words, which turned out to be an unspeakable mistake as the Taiwanese girl suddenly threw a dollar on the table right after my mouth closed.
Fuck.
Ride back home, somehow the idea that I was trying to shame her in public entered one of her cranial neurons and spread like an avalanche, turning the tide against me, making the ride unbearable, exacerbating the neoconservative radio talkshow host's effect on my already sour mood. I sat there, in the front seat, on warm leather, half listening to a neurotic Filipina mother having a go at my attitude towards humanity, her large circle of pesky friends whom I've recently called shallow (in front of her, not them, of course) and how I have no right to an opinion with regards to their shortmindedness because I have nothing to show off. True, I have the importance of dirt sticking to a piece of gum stuck to the sole of a hobo's trainers, but somehow calling Filipinos who go to parties to show off their new cars, cellphones, rings, cruise pictures, how their kid is taking AP classes and struggling but it's AP so it's ok, obesity, branding them as shallow is much too appealing even for dirt.
Shallow.
I'm sorry, I don't know who to blame for my general aversion towards the greater masses. Surely it can't be you seeing that you are vehemently opposed to attitude and views. Sure, I talk a lot because I seriously love bouncing ideas off others, but the ideas bounce back, literally, like ping pong balls hitting a wall. Perhaps that phenomenon reiterates my airhead opinion that I am above everybody else. Don't you think that with the people I associate with, I sometimes feel anxiety? They are Harvard/MIT/insert Ivy here attendees after all. Thank you mother, for pointing out my underachievement, and for covering up my unacceptable behaviors to your friends, but really, I still find them shallow at best. Yes, I am a hard-left urban liberal stuck in a N. Florida suburbian shithole, and I have not yet come to terms with that. Evidently, niceness from my part is useless, and so retreat is the next best option.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Ride back home, somehow the idea that I was trying to shame her in public entered one of her cranial neurons and spread like an avalanche, turning the tide against me, making the ride unbearable, exacerbating the neoconservative radio talkshow host's effect on my already sour mood. I sat there, in the front seat, on warm leather, half listening to a neurotic Filipina mother having a go at my attitude towards humanity, her large circle of pesky friends whom I've recently called shallow (in front of her, not them, of course) and how I have no right to an opinion with regards to their shortmindedness because I have nothing to show off. True, I have the importance of dirt sticking to a piece of gum stuck to the sole of a hobo's trainers, but somehow calling Filipinos who go to parties to show off their new cars, cellphones, rings, cruise pictures, how their kid is taking AP classes and struggling but it's AP so it's ok, obesity, branding them as shallow is much too appealing even for dirt.
Shallow.
I'm sorry, I don't know who to blame for my general aversion towards the greater masses. Surely it can't be you seeing that you are vehemently opposed to attitude and views. Sure, I talk a lot because I seriously love bouncing ideas off others, but the ideas bounce back, literally, like ping pong balls hitting a wall. Perhaps that phenomenon reiterates my airhead opinion that I am above everybody else. Don't you think that with the people I associate with, I sometimes feel anxiety? They are Harvard/MIT/insert Ivy here attendees after all. Thank you mother, for pointing out my underachievement, and for covering up my unacceptable behaviors to your friends, but really, I still find them shallow at best. Yes, I am a hard-left urban liberal stuck in a N. Florida suburbian shithole, and I have not yet come to terms with that. Evidently, niceness from my part is useless, and so retreat is the next best option.
Fuck.
