People call me a smart-ass. They are correct, but don’t realize all the smart-assery that I put on lock-down before it escapes my lips. But inmates must be given time outside in the yard to stretch out, lift weights, and shank their enemy’s favorite bitch. So here’s a peek into the instantaneous struggle I go through every time someone asks me a question. Yes… EVERY time.
Example #1: My semi-attractive boss (about a 6.5 to 7 on the Hotness scale) asks me, “How are you feeling today?”
What Norms would say: “Fine, thanks. And you?”
What I consider saying: “After careful consideration, I’ve decided to feel with my hands again. I briefly toyed with the idea of using my tongue, but realized some people might misconstrue my licking as a perverted flirtation. Of course, I could be convinced to revisit the tongue option if you were interested in such flirtation.”
What I eventually say: “I’m feeling ready to deal with whiny, tired students. Good thing I came to work, uh?”
Example #2: A good friend who’s been around for a decade asks me, “Are you happy with your relationship with Ann?”
What Norms would say: “For the most part. I could do with more/less of (blank).”
What I consider saying: “Are you assuming I have some psychological predisposition to stay in relationships that make me unhappy? I think I have enough sense to get out of relationships that suck… though since you’ve been around for ten years and still ask me questions like that might mean I need to reevaluate that thought. Or was that just a passive-aggressive means of showing you don’t approve of my relationship with Ann? Do I get a passive-aggressive vote about your so-called marriage? It would probably be something like… gee, it’s great that you catch him cheating and that makes you realize that you love him enough to be fake married. Wish I could have that relationship.”
What I eventually say: “I am currently satisfied with the direction and depth of my interactions with Ann. Would you like a statistical analysis of my satisfaction with Ann compared to my satisfaction without her? I could have it ready in a few days.”
Example #3: A friend sinks into depression after having a partner break off their relationship and asks, “Why doesn’t anyone love me? What’s wrong with me?”
What Norms would say: “You just haven’t found the right person. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
What I consider saying: “Would you please sign my state-mandated community service time sheet? Since no one loves you, I must be listening to you whine because it fulfills my court-ordered duty. As for what’s wrong with you… have you tried being more clingy and whiny? It is an incredible turn-on to have a woman define her worth through the approval of guys she was warned against dating. Someone did warn you against dating him, right? Oh yea, it was me. So I guess there’s two things wrong with you: you don’t take good advice when it’s given and you whine.”
What I eventually say: “Thanks for letting me know what I feel for you isn’t love. Probably just indigestion from that dinner I bought you.”
Why am I sharing this with the internet community? It certainly isn’t for acceptance. My inner thoughts are those of an asshole wrapped in a bastard strip and covered with douche’ sauce. I suppose I should get a little credit for managing such “ass-bas-douchery” into the slightly more acceptable smart-ass remarks that I do share out loud. In fact, underneath that grime, superiority, and rudeness is another inner zone filled with a hopeless romantic who still believes in magic. And inside that zone is a toddler seeking attention. And inside that zone is a fame-seeking narcissist with a Messiah complex. And inside that zone is a prankster teenager who enjoys whispering, “Double Mayo” into his sister’s ears so she’ll gag and vomit a little into her mouth. And inside that zone is Mega Man.
So judge me not by what I say, for what I say is a poor translation of all the things I think. Judge me not by what I think, for what I think is too contradictory. Judge me by how I act. Judge me by the favors I do without return. Judge me by the dinners I buy when I’m broke. Judge me by the laughter I inspire through my antics.
And if you’re a woman, judge me by how effective I can feel you with my tongue.