There are several reasons why I enjoy occasionally jumping in to do a Fly on the Wall post with Karen and a bunch of other awesome bloggers, but I’d have to say that the main reason is that every couple of months, when I join in the Fly on the Wall fun, I’m reminded that I need to do a little spring cleaning.
Specifically, a little friend and family spring cleaning.
Because when I see an accumulation of the shit my friends and family members—and, oh, let’s not forget co-workers, gas station attendants, and doctors—say to me on a daily basis, all wrapped up nicely in one blog post, I realize that, well, they’re a humongous bunch of assholes and I hate them all.
Eh, who am I kidding, right? We all know that birds of a feather flock together, and if you came to my house, job, or to the local bar on the rare night that a group of us have a chance to get together, you’d find one big, fat, colorful asshole of a bird.
And then you’d probably shoot it.
But me? I love that bird. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. (Okay, so maybe I’d make us not as fat. But everything else I’d keep.)
In fact, if the people I surrounded myself with were nice, that’s when I’d delete them all from Facebook and go looking for new ones. Because what fun would that be?
And really, my theory on nice people is that they simply aren’t creative enough to be assholes. It truly is a gift, my peeps.
So before I get into my Fly on the Wall post, let me say one more thing: I’m always a little worried when I do these posts that you’ll all think I’m bullshitting. Because there’s no way that someone could walk around living life being treated this way and not end up going all Carrie on everyone’s asses with a bucketful of pig’s blood, right?
But it happens. One might even say that I choose my friends according to how well they can dish it out—and that the ones who throw me the most effective zingers are actually my faves.
In other words, every single one of these things was actually said—with not even a touch of exaggeration on my part. But don’t worry about me, peeps; I give as well as I get—pig’s blood not included. (“They’re all gonna LAUGH at you!!”)
What was the question again?
Without further ado, I present to you:
Fly on the Wall: The Dear God, this Is Actually My Life Edition
“Pick me up a carton of Pall Malls on your way through town. I’ll give you a check when you get here…but don’t cash it until Wednesday.”
My mother-in-law’s instructions are truly Fly on the Wall perfection on their own, but because of the attendant working at the gas station where I picked up the ciggies, I have a little addition to the fun.
I stopped to get the Pall Malls after running a 10K, so I was sweating in that proud, just-ran-6(.2)-miles, glowing kind of way, wearing my finisher’s medal, a headband, and my iPod still slung over my neck.
When I walked up to the counter and told him what I needed, the attendant gave a small—but not unkind—smirk. “Nothing like finishing a healthy jog on a beautiful day and then sucking down a carton of Pall Malls, huh?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes, mentally debating how to answer. Because although he was being a smartass, I do like to give credit where credit is due, and I could totally appreciate his crack. Although I prefer the more luxurious Virginia Slims Menthol Luxury Light Cigarettes in a Box, Please (I mean, seriously, what looks classier than pulling a carton of those beauts out of your gym bag after a good sweat session?), he was pretty spot on with his sentiment: That was my idea of a perfect day.
It was like the time I worked at a grocery store and a girl came through my checkout line with a box of tampons and a bottle of Ibuprofen and I said, “They might as well prepackage these motherfckers together, right?” and instead of being a total butthead and running off to tell my manager that I’d said motherfckers, she nodded her head in a way that conveyed complete understanding as I finished ringing her up and recited her total.
So I did the same with the smartass selling me the Pall Malls. Except I had to add one thing:
“That’s where you’re wrong, grasshopper,” I informed him. “Because in fact, there’s nothing like finishing a healthy jog on a beautiful day and then sucking down a carton of Pall Malls with a 6-pack of Boulevard Wheat.”
“Touche,” he responded, not even missing a beat as he slowly nodded his head. His eyes never left mine as he backed toward the coolers, opened the door to one, and pulled out a 6-pack of my favorite beer. “And you’re in luck, because we sell that, too.”
I left the gas station that day $8 dollars poorer but with a spring in my step. Because there truly are kindred spirits out there, you know? (By the way: I was only counting my beers in that $8 total. The $44 for the Pall Malls would be paid back…Wednesday.)
Me: “When did you learn how to spell ‘astonishingly’?”My little sister: “Oh, I don’t know…about the same time you learned how to put on makeup.”
Someone is teaching my 30-year-old little sister how to read and write, as evidenced on Facebook. And I’m not sure I like it.
My doctor, talking to me about another doctor: “He was a sperm donor for a sweet lesbian couple.”Sperm-donating doctor, chest puffed out in pride: “Yeah, and I only have one functioning testicle, too.”
Me: “You’re lucky I already have my two kids or else I’d be hitting you up.”
A co-worker after I complimented his shirt: “Quit trying to be nice. It’s horrible on you.”
Something I heard this month when I walked into a room:
“Oh, there you are. I thought I smelled bologna.”
Now THAT, my peeps, is how you GET the respect you command.
“That person carrying a steaming cup of coffee back into the office after her lunch break at 1:00 on an afternoon with a heat index of 115 degrees? That’s Shay. What a dumbass.”Me: “You’re the one who hired me. Who’s the dumbass now?”
My boss and I, we just “get” each other, you know?
The hubs, as he passed a trucker: “UGH. How annoying. They think they own the road.”Me: “Well, they’re on the road for like 12 hours a day. You’d have to be a little bit aggressive. I’m sure they’re more annoyed by regular drivers like us than we are by them.”
Hubs, shooting me a look: “Don’t you take the truckers’ side. Don’t you ever take the truckers’ side.”
Me, during the same road trip: “I finished this book in 2 days. I’m glad it was short, because I didn’t like it that much. I only read it for my book club.”Hubs: “Oh my poor little miserable sweetie. The things you’re subjected to.”
“I’ve never seen a runner who is such a PIG!”
She had her Pall Malls; why the hell did she care if she pissed me off now? (By the way…I love her and find her hysterical, just to clarify. And in case she ever finds this blog.)
Now, one thing I must specify is that when I use the sweeping generalization “asshole” to refer to my friends and family members, my adorable sons are not included…yet. But I do have high hopes for them.
In the meantime, they’re still sweet, as evidenced in the things that they say:
"Mom, can I have one of your k-cups to use as an air freshener in my room?”
His mother’s child…
I’m not even kidding, his room smelled like coffee for 2 weeks, aka until we ran out of coffee and I had to drink his “air freshener.”
My 5-year-old’s teacher: “Do you like school, buddy?”My son: “Yeah. Well, all except for the teaching part.”
Still need to pass some time at work while waiting for the weekend to get here? Check out my first Fly on the Wall post by clicking here.
And below is a list of the other bloggers who participated in this month's Fly on the Wall. It's kind of fun to check out everyone's different Fly on the Wall writing styles...but then again, I'm a huge reading and writing nerd who finds "checking out writing style" fun to do on a Friday night with a beer. Hey, it's better than playing Balderdash by myself in the downstairs bathroom, which is what I used to do in middle school on Friday nights...
As always, have a great weekend, and I hope you come back to see me next Friday!