PIFH #4: Petty people

Say the word ‘petty’ and watch every person engaged in the conversation go on and on about how much they can’t stand petty people. Ever notice that when you mention a negative attribute present in the majority of human beings (at least exercised at some point in life) every motherfucker in the room acts like it’s something they’ve never done. But as we all know this is a damn lie. I admit I’ve been petty at points in my life. Maybe a few times, but it has never been a staple in my personality.

I have never been a truly petty person. Not because I am better than other people, but because I never had the chance to. I was constantly surrounded by other petty, selfish, and vindictive assholes who exhibited this behavior so much that it made me sick. Made me sick every time I even thought about being petty even for a moment. You might be thinking I’m recalling a time from being a child and going to school. My school mates were assholes in their own right, but the most pettiness I’ve experienced in the 20-something years I’ve been on the planet has come from adults.

Fully grown.

Car driving.

Alcohol drinking.

Full-time job working…adults.

These are the motherfuckers who will notice you are wearing the same clothes from yesterday and ask you, in front of everyone, “weren’t you wearing that yesterday?” in the most innocent way like you don’t remember not changing your clothes.

They are the people who will do one thing for you and expect to be paid back in the exact amount they gave to you. If they helped you move an apartment a for a few hours on Saturday, that meal of appreciation is “nice” but you’re still in debt and they will surely bring it up at a later time.

They will argue with you down to the last penny over a split check because apparently there is a fucking huge difference between paying a couple dollars extra on time vs. paying the $21.43 you owe.

They will keep an argument going long after it should have ended regardless as to who started it because their ego tells them they have to have the last word.

They are the shameless fools who lack class in such a degree they will flinch back and grimace the moment in the conversation where your tongue hits the floor of your mouth an causes a drop of spit to come out. I once had some girl make the worst face at me when I accidentally got a little excited in the middle of a story and a drop of spit landed on her face. She halted the conversation and very sloooowly wiped it away as though it was Hitler’s vomit. I wouldn’t have been mad either if I knew she wasn’t someone who was used to taking loads on her face from men she just met.

Then, there are people like my grandmother who, despite being in her 50’s at the time, would do all kinds of petty shit to children. My single mother was poor (of course) and lazy growing up so we never had money for anything be it clothes, shoes, school supplies, food etc.  So every year, when the new school year was starting, we never had new uniforms. We always hate wear the same old shit from last year. Anyway, my grandmother would get clothing vouchers for my cousins (who she had custody of) for clothes, shoes, and supplies for school. After coming back from the store she would take all the bags into the living room. She would go through each on and pick out every item one by one, talk about it, show it to us, and fold it up. Every. single. item. I remember once she worked at a laundromat and we were there one day so we helped a man carry his cleaned laundry just across the way to his apartment a 2 minute walk away. He gave each of us a dollar. To kids that’s a good amount of money. Any way my grandmother made each of us give her a quarter because we “wouldn’t have gotten anything” without her. Had I been a different kind of person, this would have affected me much more negatively than it has. I understood at the time we were the only people she could feel better than because she had nothing else going in life to live up to other, more hard-working people.

There is only show much shit a human being can take from other people. I truly believe there is a built in meter within all of us. When I am present during an act of immature, selfish and unnecessarily disgusting pettiness from an adult I find myself wishing it was perfectly legal to just stand up, strike them in the mouth and then sit back down.

This is why I think that petty people can fuck off. They can fuck off in a house, with a mouse. They can fuck off here and over there. They can fuck off any and every where. They can fuck off and stay fucked-off because I disdain them.

–Quinny

PIFH #1: People who think their children are the most adorable, talented creatures to roam the earth…

messy baby picture 2

…And thinks everyone else in the fucking world has to agree. I get it you have managed to engage in the most basic act that any living thing on the planet can engage in (sex) and have decided, to reproduce an off-spring, so you think you have accomplished something. You haven’t.

Now maybe I don’t get it because I haven’t be put through the pregnancy, labor and daily duties of raising a living thing with part of my DNA, but I can’t for the life of me understand what’s running through the child-struck heads of most parents. Do you really believe me when I agree that the picture of your child covered from head to toe in only God knows what is cute? Do you derive a certain pleasure from forcing me, by social rules, to valid you and your spouse’s assertion that your 3 year old’s ability to butcher “Let It Go” from Frozen is worthy of a fucking Grammy?  You do? Well, this is why I hate you.

For thousands of years people could socially give less than a quarter of a fuck about other people’s offspring and it was considered okay. You weren’t forced to constantly lavish admiration and attention on a child that had a low chance of survival anyway. One would think that because your kids could have died from the unsanitary conditions people of the past were forced to live in, that would have been the time to act like stinky baby shit didn’t smell, but it wasn’t.

However, it seems that the advances in technology and ability to carry your little forever moist child’s 500 pictures around with you daily means that you can now abuse and harass the rest of us with pictures and videos of it.

Well I’m here to tell you that I’m sick of it. I do not want to watch videos of your children doing some below average dance. They can’t even get the simple steps right. Do not show me a picture that it scribbled colored outside the lines and with the wrong shades. It is not miraculous that it is able to take macaroni and glue and dump it all on a piece of paper and leave it alone long enough to dry into a shapeless mess. Contrary to what you might believe, I do not think your child is the most amazing thing to grace my presence. Despite what you might think, just because I’m standing near you in line at the grocery store looking at a parenting magazine to past the time, it does not give an opening to ask me if I have kids just so that you can pull out your cellphone and tell me all about yours.

I don’t care.

I find it annoying.

And I wish you would royally fuck off.

Fuck off back to the Mommy and me classes where every other broad thinks her weird looking child is beautiful. Fuck off back to the parks for kids where everyone acts like their child’s ability to sit upright and be pushed on a swing by their parent is an achievement. Fuck off back to whatever hole you pushed that stroller out of.

If someone asks to see pictures of your children, then you show them. If someone happens to think your child is beautiful then take the compliments when given and sit your punk ass down. While you might have an urge to whip out that cellphone in every long elevator ride, waiting room, or line, you need to learn to control it. Put a lid on it.

You know, I may not yet have children, but I vow to never be a parent like this. Why on Earth would I have any expectation of other people to like my children? Why would I get off on coerced compliments when I know the person doesn’t actually mean it? What kinds of pleasure would I get out of wasting someone’s time when I can clearly see their eyes glazing over after the 30th picture of my child’s birthday party?

I don’t get it. I’d love for assholes who do this to explain it to me, but something tells me they’d just get offended and walk off in a huff to take yet another ego affirming picture of that child. I swear, some people just want to see the world burn.

 

–Quinny