Fake You!
[There was a very entertaining picture to go with this post of a flame hand, giving the finger, but since Blogger is being terribly uncooperative, I had no such luck getting it into the post the million and one times I tried to upload it.]
Huh. Fake is like Cake with an F. Nevermind.So, I absolutely loathe the fakeness in the world, faux concern for others and the like for the most part. It drives me nuts and since it doesn't really matter anyway and since they're not really doing anything to help, only saying things to make themselves look better and make themselves feel better, which is really a lot of work (people, it's tiring to be a do-gooder), I can't understand why people bother. No one really cares. I mean, sure, I feel bad for people, and they're are some I concern myself with more than I should and others I should care more about, but don't...whatever.
I also loathe the programmed response. Without fail, a day spent shopping has me hearing the phrase, "Have a nice day" or "Enjoy your afternoon" more times than I'd like. Cashiers don't really care if you have a lovely afternoon. They probably don't even want you to. It's just something they're supposed to say and after saying it so many times, it just comes out without thought. They might as well say, "Fuck off and die!" when you're walking away from the check-outs.
"Enjoy your meal" is another one. I don't know about you, but the employees from McDonalds really have no business saying this. It's a friggin' saw dust burger on a mangled bun. It's not a steak dinner at a fancy pants restaurant. My expectations of enjoyment are not that high for food wrapped in waxed paper, food that's probably been sitting under a heat lamp for a considerable amount of time. What they should really say is something like, "Don't choke on an onion snibble" or "Try not to cut yourself with a ketchup packet." It's just more honest.
Third, I hate it when you run into someone and they're all up and clearly pretending to care about what you've been up to when really it's just going in one ear and right out the other and said person is more than likely having an inner struggle trying to figure out what your name even is. Drives me nuts! "What have you been up to since [insert lame more than likely school or work related event said person knows you from] ...blah, blah, blah." I swear it's gonna be a bad day for whomever asks me that question next.
You could give them any ridiculous response you want. In ten minutes when they're standing in line to pay for their gas, they're not even going to remember. They'll remember they saw you, maybe for a day or two. Maybe they'll even tell another person who also had been at said lame event or knows you from somewhere. The fact that your answer was crazy won't even make them remember.
You could literally say, "I've been spoon-feeding Wallabies (that doesn't look right...hmmm.) sent here in a time machine from 1972." They would think you were crazy right then, and say something like, "Wallabies (once again, does not look right)?" People, when one word turns into a question, and it also happens to be a marcupial, it's not a good situation. To screw with them a little more you could look at them all crazy like and say, "Yes, from 1972." I would personally walk away at this point, just to leave said person a little more creeped out by me, but then again, I am a bold girl.
If they remember anything substantial at all it would be like, "I saw so-and-so the other day. He/She is working at the zoo or something now." And then said people would congratulate you, even though you are not there, on doing well and for having gotten such a great job.
So, here is a list of question, most of which get asked more often than not, for which I will make up stories to answer...
- Where are you from? I am generally pretty honest about this one, but since it doesn't matter from now on, when asked such a question, I will respond by saying things like, "Gnome, Gome, Alaska." Thank you, guys at Broken Lizard. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll say, "I don't know." and act like I have amnesia or something. That would be hilarious.
- More times than not, when I am outside, holding the hose, trigger in hand with water coming out, directed at my new sod and/or gardens, a small, not white child will walk up to me all cautious like and ask me what I am doing. From now on, I will tell any such child that I am feeding the bugs in my garden so they grow big and strong and eat your dog so I never have to listen to it bark all night ever again. I will tell them I am growing a legion of hell-mouthed raised beetles given to me by my wicked, evil crone of a mother-in-law (she does live in OH, near Cleveland) to kill my enemies and leave this ghetto a quiet, peaceful place again. They will grow as large as rhinos! Insighting fear in the hearts of children is awesome.
- What have I been up to since [insert lame event mentioned above]? "I take a lot of pills." 'Nuff said about that. Of course with the people I have met in my lifetime, someone is bound to say something like, "Hey, who doesn't?" in a very agreeable kind of way.
- "Why'd you do that?" This one I get from a lot of people and especially my hubby. Why did I do that? I was dared. The birds told me to. I saw it in a dream. It doesn't matter and why do you care? Most of the time something I've done is something so crazy or so time-consuming to explain (the complexities of me are just insane) why should I bother to tell the truth?
1 Comments:
What a lovely, thought-provoking post.
Not really. I was just practicing the fake love I'll be pouring onto my next 30-second BE surf-by-shooting.
Here's a good response for, "So where are you from?":
"I'm from the Land of Shattered Hearts and Broken Dreams, and you're just in time for the human sacrifice. Have you brought your buffet tray? I think they've got anthropologist on the carving station today."
Have a nice day.
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