I can't help it. I'm probably just a mean person, but at least I'm an honestly mean person. It gets worse when I'm around my friends and we're out in public. Shit just rolls out of my mouth and I can't help it. At a bar last night there was a girl dressed from head to toe in brown. She had an ugly bandana wrapped around her forehead that continued down her back the length of her body, a matching Stevie Knicks "flow" skirt and knee high moccasins. Come on dude! She was askin' for it like a slut in a mini skirt. When a friend of mine saw her she just busted out laughing and said "woah!!!". I began calling her "Dances with Wolves". Kara made me pee my pants by calling her "Pocahontasshole". The whole night I could have stopped drinking and just cheered myself up by glancing over at her swaying through the crowd like she was doing a rain dance in the forrest. Kara made a joke that we better not encourage her or the sprinklers might go off. At least she's funny about it. I'm just down right mean. It's not even low self esteem, I have tons that people can make fun of me for. Bad tattoos, snaggle teeth, etc etc .....and thats totally cool. I encourage it. That way maybe I won't feel so bad when I spit it back out at them. I constantly tell myself that I'm going to stop being so mean, but then I walk out my door and it starts fresh again.
So last night I came to the conclusion that maybe I don't hate it so much, and maybe thats just a part of me, like a birthmark I was born with or something. Maybe if I felt so bad about it or thought it was a nasty enough habit, I'd have fixed it by now. So I guess the final question I'm trying to ask is, does that make me officially a frigid, wretched horrible person?
Wait, don't answer that, I don't really care.
julie [email] said at 2:20 PM 09-14-2004: I ran a tab at the bar last night for a guy named Daniel Tubbs. And he was indeed very tubby-- and pale with glasses and a slight overbite. And I almost couldn't even look at him with a straight face. I mean, can you imagine in gym class when the coach barks out last names? "Pick up the pace, Tubbs!"
I wonder... genetics? or self-fulfilling playground taunt? (He was about 30.)
I also feel mean a lot when I hate the bands that play at my bar. Because I can't help but roll my eyes when they launch into a really bad cover song or something. I usually find a co-conspirator among the bar-stool-sitters and pass snarky notes. But I act really nice, so it balances out.
meredith [email] said at 2:49 PM 09-14-2004: I think everyone has spats of meanness. It has it's place. If no one had ever been mean to me when I was a kid, I might never have found fashion and the joys that lie therein.
meredith [email] said at 2:55 PM 09-14-2004: Hee. Actually, that would be funny. I was actually thinking a site devoted to making fun of people like him.
rick [email] said at 2:56 PM 09-14-2004: I think you would look good in some of those outfits. Wear some to work. See what your boss has to say. On your lunch break, you could strum a lute too.
brandon [email] said at 2:48 PM 09-14-2004: You should not feel any kind of remorse for being mean. 75% of my pleasure while going out is derived from belittling others and observing their faults. People dressed as execrably bad as she was, deserve to be shat upon for the amusement of others. And fucking Stevie Nicks. FUCK.
