Idiots come in many forms; sometimes, they can even be spotted in my a mirror.
But every now and then one pops up from the outside, directly in your face.
And what is a blog for if not to vent about idiots? I mean, really, I could lose my blogger membership card if I miss this opportunity.
Here’s my most recent idiot encounter:
So, I’m taking another improv class in a complex scheme to avoid housework, taught by him here, and one of the students is a guy who’s been in a couple of other improv classes with me. We won’t name names, but let’s just say his name rhymes with “gall.”
We hadn’t been in a class together for at least six months, I’m a little nervous about not censoring myself like I do to live in my world, and Gall sits down next to me.
Hey, how’s it going, Gall? I say.
Oh, great…been seeing some plays, this and this… Have you seen those?
No, I’m doing good getting here, ya know.
Do you have kids?
Yea, I have an eight year old.
YOU have an eight year old?? Sheer shock at this modern medical miracle began to register on his old face.
As I see this I start to think, just how old do you think I am??
Have you ever thought of coloring your hair? I mean, you could look at least ten years younger!
Gee, Gall, have you ever thought of penis enlargement surgery?
Well, actually, some people compliment me on my silver hair…
He rolls his eyes (!) in a you’re-gonna-believe-that? and that my wife left me? look.
Mind if I ask you a personal question because I have no social chip in my head and I’ll keep going until you shoot me?
You mean another?? I say.
How old are you?
I’m 39, or possibly just barely 45.
[Audible gasp] I hoped thought you were at least 55 and single!
I grab my right hip.
Do you think I need to go on a diet, too, and get rid of this, you fr*&%#in idiot??
I confess, face-to-face, I am a relatively sweet particularly when sober Texas girl who gets speechless at others’ less-than-polite commentary. Hence, the improv classes.
What do you do with these people when they pop up??!
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I tell em to eff off. But that’s just me. Not so sweet girl, who is not from Texas. And therefore lacking in any sort of Southern charm. Although I do have other charms. Somewhere. Down deep.
Trish´s last [type] ..Happy Halloween
Oh, you have charms, lady!! In a imgonnakickyourass way!
I still remember girls in Dallas saying, “Gah, y’all! That is SO RUDE!” Which is what I thought in my head. Amazing how it stays with ya.