Years ago in a bar down on Market Street a bright-faced woman came up to me and said "smile".
"What?"
"SMILE!"
I made the mistake of asking why. She punished me with a long and incredibly inane lecture about positivism and happy faces, spreading sunshine and light, and crap about dolphins, beauty, and nature.
Since then, whenever some cluckhead tells me to smile, I usually snarl back "I am smiling, bitch!"
Or something to that effect.
Yesterday I was at a bar when a woman put her hand on my arm and said "if it all gets to be too much, think of the children".
"IF IT ALL GETS TO BE TOO MUCH, THINK OF THE CHILDREN!"
"What?"
"Think of the children! If it all gets too much, think of the children!"
"Why?"
"They're innocent, the children."
"So why do I have to think of them? If it's about innocence, why can't I think of fish?"
"Errrm, the children...... "
"No no no, fish! Not the children, fish. Fish are innocent. Children only SEEM innocent, because in comparison to us they have the intelligence of a boiled potato. But fish are truly stupid. No brain at all. They're fish. Totally innocent fish. "
"But fish have no personalities, and aren't happy!"
"Firstly, how do you know they aren't happy, and secondly, they do so have personality. Lots of personality, with a little soy and vinegar. Steamed or fried, TONS of sweetly innocent personality. Not like children."
"For GOD's sake, they aren't people!!!! You gotta think about people!!!! People are beautiful!!!" Think of the children!!!!"
"Lady, you're losing track of what I'm trying to say here. Fish have plenty of personality if you just cook 'em right, which you can't do to kids. And they're innocent as all git-out, what with having no intelligence. Yeah, kids ARE beautiful, especially teenage girls - yowza hot! Smoking!
But if I start thinking that way, I'll get in trouble with the law.
So I'll just think of fish, thank you very much."
"Stop being so obtuse!"
OH MY UNCLE!
To drive my point home, I told her all about uncle Gerry, who said that his greatest aim in life was to die in bed with two naked girls, one on each side, and a big sloppy grin all over his face. A wonderful fantasy, and I must assume that at least part of it came true, seeing as he's quite dead now. Must have been good, I can almost see the devilish gleam in his eyes as he croaked. Probably left a mess, what with two shapely nude witnesses and the divorced wife fighting over the money, and the cops wondering what the heck had gone on there. I can just imagine the coroner's report. How did the two bucknaked teenagers figure into the official file?
Juicy I bet - especially if there were photos of them in bed next to the corpse. Colour photos.
See, that's what happens when you think of children. You die happy. And because I would rather not snuff it at this point, instead of thinking about children, I will think of fish.
Fish are good.
She looked like she was about to cry right about then, so I tried to comfort her - "okay, if you insist, I'll think of the children"
I may have ruined it by clarifying "the naked teenage children, with smooth skin, like eels."
She stomped off angry. I think I heard her mumbling about a sickass bastard as she left.
Such a terrible attitude, poor woman.
See, she needs to think of the children. What will all the kids think if she pouts so? It's a lousy example to any attractive teenage daughters she might have.
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4 comments:
Is it OK if I think of shapely naked teenaged girls INSTEAD of fish?
Why does Harvard Square seem to attract so many of these types of people? They Save the Children people were there trying to collect money and when they asked me, I said Fuck the children!
In point of fact, the children are MUCH more intelligent than us (going by learning ability), but much, much more ignorant.
Which makes it very easy to manipulate the little bastards. Er, I mean, cutie-pies.
:)
Tzipporah,
Absolutely correct. But no way was I going to go in that direction. I did not want to give the insufferable positivist an opening.
I figure, if you're gonna be Little Miss Sunshine, why are you in a bar after work? Go gambol on the beach or in the park and pretend you're a butterfly, that way we can throw rotten eggs at you if you get on our nerves. Too many witnesses at a bar for that.
So instead, a verbal sharpening of knives.
Do I want her to feel welcome at the bar. No. She can go twitter and squeak elsewhere.
If she wants to leave any attractive teenage daughters she might have in the care of us bar-patrons in the meantime, fine. We'll make them smile.
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