... I’m a nice person, really. Unfortunately, I'm a nice person with a mad
face. I was born with a face that looks, unless I’m laughing uncontrollably, as
though my dog just died. No, really,
someone told me that once, so I gotta think it’s true.
I've
actually practiced looking non-shocked in the mirror and it doesn’t work. Rude comments directed at me for no reason (and since I am such a nice person, there is no reason to be rude to me!) render me speechless and cause my eyes to open so wide no amount of Botox could fill the grooves in my forehead. And let me tell you, it doesn’t take much on your part. I can detect rudeness in the slightest facial tic, the first word.
You don’t have to be within ten feet of me and I can tell if you intend to say
something rude to me before you’ve formulated the thought because my face has “RUDAR”. All I can do at that point is give in to the face. You know that saying “Talk to the hand cause the face ain’t listenin’ ”? My face has the hearing of a bat. It picks
up rude like dolphins pick up clicks, like redheads pick up freckles, like
thighs pick up fat. Got it?
Maybe I am actually the total antithesis, if that means the opposite of,
nice. Maybe…just maybe… I really don’t care enough about you to be rude to you and the reason I want you to not be rude to me is this - if you’re having a bad day ‘cuz you had a fight with your kid or partner, if some crazy driver cut you off or AT&T dropped your call or the Boss Of You is giving you grief or you have a
hangover, loose bowels, dandruff - I don’t care…at all. Be nice, say good morning, be as respectful of me as I am of you, ok?
Just don’tmake me have to get Botox in this forehead! The face won’t like it.
