Hey there adoring fans (Mary Trotter)!
Readers, I am frustrated with the world today.
Why are people so mean?
And don’t give me the old “it’s because they’re insecure” excuse.
I’m insecure about a lot of things. I started a dang-on blog where I list my insecurities on a daily basis for the world (all twelve of you) to see. And I’m not mean. Never have been. Ok, that’s a lie. I was once mean to Ashley Naimaster in the 7th grade…probably because she didn’t realize that she was prettier and smarter than me…and she had a 10-speed which was really cool….and then I got wind that other people figured out that she was prettier and smarter than me and had a 10 speed…so naturally I threw all of her personal items out of our shared locker onto the hallway floor while on a “bathroom break” from shop class for the entire 7th grade student body to see. Which I will agree was all about my own insecurities, but I was 12. 12 is about the oldest age I will allow “meaness out of insecurtiy.” Since that incident, I’ve always been very nice. And if I ever catch myself being in any way mean, it usually lasts no more than 30 seconds, and then I feel all bad and apologize to the person that I cut off with my shopping cart at PetCo…where the pets go. Plus, Ashley Naimaster and I made up by time we got to 8th grade and are friends on Facebook now so I couldn’t have been that mean anyway.
Which is why my mind is boggled over how mean the people that I’ve been surrounded by are lately. I finally quit my old job because my boss was a tyrannical, misogynistic, meanie pants who treated the employees of his wine bar like Jews of Nazi Germany, or North Koreans of North Korea, or employees of Disney Cruise lines (I once heard that a guy got fired for having a bottle of vodka in his cabin…so it’s basically like living in Syria when you work for the Mouse) and vowed to never let anybody treat me horribly again. Life is too short to surround yourself with haters. But now it’s my new co-workers that are down right meanies. I just don’t get it. My first day of work consisted of me running around like a maniac while the rest of my co-workers looked at me with that facial expression of disdain where their eyebrows are always lifted….
And the only conversations had went something like this:
Raised-Brow-Co-Worker: Sarah! (directly in front of 3 other co-workers and a manager) You really need to pay attention. You have to stab your tickets at the bar or else the bartender will make the drink again.
Me: (who has stabbed every ticket once the drink is made thus far…because I’ve worked in restaurants for the past 12 years…and I don’t have to tell you that it’s not rocket science) Sure, no problem. Although, I do need that drink made. That’s why the ticket hasn’t been stabbed.
R-B-C-W: (equally mad that I didn’t make a mistake, as she was when she thought I did make a mistake) Ugh! So you need this drink then?!
Me: Yes, please, that would be great. Thank you!
Why you gotta be so mean?! All of us are consistently coated in a film of sweat and blue cheese, being mean isn’t going to help anyone here.
Then, my mom called after getting off the phone with my brother, who was worried about his clothing choices because the other students in his improv class were making fun of his polo shirts in their scenes. Why you gotta be so mean?! My brother can barely carry on a conversation without getting self conscious! And he’s working really hard! He has social issues for Pete’s sake! That’s why I got him into improv! Now you’re going to make fun of his polo shirts?! What’s wrong with a polo shirt?!
It took everything in my being to not get the list of students in his improv class, hop on a Megabus, light bags of Ruby’s (and maybe some of my own) poop on fire and then hurl those flaming terds directly onto the front porches of those meanies. But I didn’t, because that would be mean, and like I previously stated at the beginning of this long winded rant on social structures in the American restaurant industry, recreational improv classes, and 7th grade girl fights, I’m not mean.
Then, I read this great article that breaks down what’s going on in Syria for people like me who have no idea what’s actually going on and am too afraid to ask because when you ask questions about what seems to be common knowledge to the rest of the world you get this reaction…
And as far as I can tell, the sh*t that’s going on over there has everything to do with people being mean. So where do I go from here? I can’t change what’s happening in Syria. I can’t change the way that people treat my brother. Can I change the way that people treat me? I’ve been working on this whole kill ’em with kindness angle, which has been my go to tactic for dealing with meanies for a long time now, but it seems to not be recognized by my new co-workers. With them, my kindness is lost and all I get in return is more meanness or otherwise being flat out ignored. I suppose the answer is that I should just continue to be nice and not surround myself with the meanies of the world. But I still need to make money. Perhaps I will use my imagination to turn their “Hey Sarah! Are you ever going to bus that table or do I have to do it for you, you fat cow?!” to “Hey Sarah! You’re doing a great job! I’m so glad you started working here. Maybe later we can go to ikea and pick out new spatulas?” Whatever I do, I vow to not be mean, and right here and now stand on my soap box and say that I bet if we all took a vow to never be mean, the world would be a better place for all of the discouraged-waitress-polo-shirt-wearing-Ashley-Naimasters of the world!
PS: If you want the abridged, easy to follow article about what’s going on in Syria check this out: http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/worldviews/wp/2013/08/29/9-questions-about-syria-you-were-too-embarrassed-to-ask/?fb_action_ids=10151644598527877&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_source=aggregation&fb_aggregation_id=288381481237582