Bitches have no feelings

But they do.

Look, I know I am a bitch, admit it readily. Just depends who you are on whether you get bitch me, or loyal as a dog me.

But one thing you should know about me, I HATE crying. Oh sure, those commercials with hurt animals, and even some TV shows and movies can bring a tear to my, maybe even bawl. I have to leave the room or switch channels when that animal one comes on. I get a rage on for assholes who hurt animals!

But when it comes to myself, or my life? I stand alone, I do not cry, will not cry. I know my husband and son support me, will hold me up, but I choose to do it alone.

And for weeks, months actually, I have been pulling myself up by the skin of my teeth, through the mud, and slop to finally have an okay day. I had lost another 5 pounds, if you minus the clothes I was wearing, and the sun had finally come out, and hubby was on the up swing … No, it was a good day!

Then I went shopping. I usually go later at night, fewer people which means less assholes. But the problem is? There were bigger assholes this night.

I had picked up my apple juice, hubby’s Coke, and some Halls for me at night (damned allergies), and was at the till. Now, I have no clue what this bitches problem was that was behind me. But from the moment she walked up to the till I had this vibe about her, so I positioned myself so she was not at my back, as I do anyway when using my debit or credit card. And just waited for the cashier to do his job. I had a list of other places and things going on in my head, and about 5 songs vying for attention, so I was only focusing on the amount being rung up. At first.

I heard the cashier say something to the fuck nugget behind me, but didn’t really hear it. He repeated it “Where does your order start, I need the items separated”. She had put her order right up against mine with no divider. No big deal as I was watching what was being rung in, but he was near the end of his shift and you could tell he didn’t want to be there a second longer. He had been called up to till due to only one till being open, and a very long line.

She pipes up points to the Coke, the last in my order, and says, while eyeing me up and down with a sneer, “Oh god no, I don’t drink that stuff! I’d get diabetes and fat.” Then she faced me with a smirk.

At the time I was so preoccupied, I wasn’t even sure of what I heard, it took me until my order was done and I was paying to really click in to the whole scenario. At that point the moment had passed to say anything, so I just gave her my sideways, what others call, “the bitch death stare”. Supposedly it can kill in a second. It didn’t kill. Very annoying.

With each step I took towards my car, it was a distance away, I became more and more enraged. I mouthed of on twitter like a scorned teenaged girl, and tried to calm down before turning on my car. Even though I was just driving to the other side of the mall, I know better than to drive when that fucking pissed off.

As I was tweeting, I noticed some hipper reformer chick (we called them skids or stoners back in my high school days) having troubles with her shit box of a car. Grey rust bucket is also an acceptable term. As I looked up to check things out, she back stepped about 5 steps and turned to another car to ask for a jump. Her car wouldn’t start.

WELL, you can imagine my glee when I realized what skank was having trouble. YEP, the one and only bitch from the till. Oh I tell ya, I made no bones about watching the whole thing go down. Like a driver stuck in traffic rubber necking an accident, I stared in fascination as this guy gave her the “You’d creepy chick” attitude, and couldn’t figure out out to hook up the cables. Hell, I KNOW how to, but I just sat there. A nice older man came by and helped them figure it out, walked away past my opened window and saw me smirking and just smirked right back and shook his head.

It took a few times before her car turned over, but it did. She didn’t bother with a seatbelt, just hauled ass out of there with the steering squealing worse than a piglet being hog tied. And I am not ashamed to say for a BRIEF second, I hoped she got into an accident.

At the next store, I was still in my own world, and a bit miffed about what had happened, but was doing ok at pushing it aside, when some broad snorted at me and muttered under her breath “Fatty”.

Now I want to be VERY fair here, with the second women, now that man hours have past, I Could very well have misheard and misread the situation. For all I know she was talking about the meat or whatever the hell she had just been looking at.

The state I was in, I was not in a good position to be reading anyone’s body langauge or trying to interpret their mutterings.

ALl that said, it has really taken what fragile happiness I had and ripped it up, thrown it on the ground and stomped it into dust, and swept it away.

I will admit, I am not the most self-confident person in the world, hell many days I don’t even know what that means! But for many years I have been able to carry myself in this world without worrying what others thought, or even really caring about them in a general way. Hell, I HATE people. (90% or so at any rate.)

But this ripped me down faster than anything anyone has ever said to me.

Oh fuck, I KNOW I am fat, have had people tell me that many times. Why this nobody bitch was able to rip me down so fucking fast is beyond my grasp.

I may have resting bitch face, or as others have said “I want to rip your heart out, feed it to a dog, then eat the dog’ face. Bit harsh, but yeah, I can be in the most glorious of moods, but if I am in thought, I look like a bitch from hell.

But guess what world. Bitches have feelings too.

Now I feel lower than I was weeks ago, and I am back at square one, clawing my way back. Fuck my life! I’ll do it, but I won’t be happy about it. As long as there is sun tomorrow, I will have a head start on this before it can take root to badly.

Fuck I hate crying. Not that I am. I don’t.

Now if you will excuse me, I need to go waste a box of Kleenex for no reason whatsoever. Just wish I knew why my eyes were so red, damned allergies.

 

 

[edit]

Note: I GET she didn’t OUT right call me fat, but come on. When someone gives you that up and down smirk face while saying something … you KNOW it’s about you. Hell, I’ve done it. But that was when I was a young idiot with no manners. Now I keep my thoughts to myself, unless you are being an ass, then I tell you. Like idiots on cell phones, or in handicapped spaces or in NO parking space.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Depression, Life. Bookmark the permalink.

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s