Mind your own f**king business.
February 7 / 8AM
I'm feeling a bit cranky and tired today on account of working 60+ hours over the past couple of weeks, so I'd like to get something off my chest.
Everyone has (or is at least supposed to have) a little switch inside their head that tells them when something they might be thinking probably shouldn't be expressed verbally to other bystanders within their periphery.
I've noticed it increasingly apparent that this switch is either temporarily out of order, or just plain never worked at all for a growing number of people.
A few examples, if I may ...
I like tuna fish. That stinky, cat food-like substance that comes right out of the can. I'll even occasionally mix in some spicy mustard or the like to change things up a bit. I eat it perhaps 3-4 times every week for lunch at work. Without fail, every day brings a new nosy nelly into the lunch room, crying "That looks awful!" or "Eeeeww ... what is that?!?" Now, to me the question of whether or not it looks awful or "eeewy" or (fill in your favorite nasty adjective here) is irrlevant. It's none of your fucking business. Are you eating it? No. Can you smell it? No. Then WTF do you care? It's no different than my proclaiming how bad your hair looks. Or how your shoes don't particularly match your tie in a manner that's satisfactory to me. It's rude and you need to mind your own business.
A few years back, I had a convertible roadster. Sweet car. Even had heated seats. This afforded me the luxury of driving around 10 months out of the year here in New England with the top down. I'd push the windows and wind screen up and blast the heat to create a nice warm coccoon to protect me from the cold. Even in sub-40 degree weather. Cruising around in late November a few years back with the drop top dropped, I pull into a local gas station. I hop out and this ass hat at the pump behind me sneers, "Hey, aren't you cold?" But he didn't just say it. He sneered it. As though the observation itself was a reason for him to sneer at some stranger in a convertible. "Heated seats," was my terse reply. He raised his eyebrows and looked to the sky, as if to say, "Tsk", without actually uttering a word.
What the hell does this have to do with anything? Not much, except that it's always stuck in my head, as I ponder how my level of comfort in the cold was anyone's business but my own. I'm not hurting or bothering anyone. The temperature in my car is not affecting his level of life's enjoyment as he goes about his daily business. So why hassle me? Mind your own f**king business.
Lastly, as I get older, it's come to my attention that there's a certain protocol or order that most adults have in mind for how others around them should proceed through life. This order typically mirrors their own lives in many ways.
Never having been one for tradition, I've long eschewed the idea of having children, for example. I decided long ago that it's not for me. Not because I don't like children - quite the contrary. I would just rather enjoy other people's children. I'd like to lease, rather than own. Of late, my girlfriend's cousins and aunts are spawning like rabbits at a spanish fly convention. So of course, every family event is sprinkled with nudges and winks: "You're next (tee hee)."
No. No we're not.
Just because the cycle of your life (and the life you expect of every one else) goes:
Birth -> Marriage -> Kids -> Death
... doesn't mean mine should.
A comedian (whose name I don't recall at the moment) once remarked on this social flow chart of life: "Next time someone asks me when I'm having kids, I'm gonna say, "Never. When are you gonna die?"
My thoughts exactly.
Mind your own f**king business.
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Comments
web | February 13, 2006 07:45 AM
Sounds like someone needs a hug. Seriously people are always judging others when they should just concern themselves with thier own lives. This is none the more evident when people "people watch" .. which is just an excuse to mock others for being diffrent. RE: Tuna and Mustard. You should tell them that you agree but unfortunatly you ran out of the grape jelly, tuna and buffalo sauce you normally have for lunch. Then take a forkfull and fling it at thier shirt. I doubt they will ever say something again.Nick | February 21, 2006 09:56 AM
These are the same people who think that being loud is synonymous with being funny.