Look, I’ll admit right up front that this might make me a horrible person. But, you know what? I firmly believe that we have to do something to make ourselves feel better when life is kicking us in the teeth, and a harmless something is always preferable to something overtly hostile, right? Right?? (Please don’t put that on my tombstone.)
Needless to say, I’ve accidentally developed what I’ll call a new hobby.
It might have stemmed from the claustrophobia that occurs from having thousands of people hanging out in front of one’s home daily between March and October each year (I live in a touristy area). Maybe it’s just general frustration due to my inability to change my situation in life fast enough for my taste (I’m still clocking two yucky jobs and one unfinished novel as of today).
Or maybe those are just lame excuses for being a terrible person.
You see, I may not have Resting Bitch Face (as disclosed in a previous post), but I definitely have the finest side eye skills around. And, apparently I’ve gotten a lot of practice lately, because I realized today that it’s become something of a fun hobby for me. Nobody is free from my scathing side eye or my judgmental thoughts. Nobody!
The minute I step out my front door, BAM!! I’m literally tripping over cranky parents plying their screeching babes with junk food galore. There are sticky fingers everywhere you turn, and I swear to you, it’s the stuff of nightmares. There are the idiots who don’t realize they can’t stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk and stand there dumbfounded while foot traffic builds up behind them, and there are the folks who don’t seem to realize that they can’t walk five or six people across, because then no one can get past them. Heck, I even gave some serious side eye to two women pushing double strollers next to each other, because they acted like I should have to step off the sidewalk into the mud to let them pass. Ruin my footwear, because you’re too entitled to stop the gossip-fest and stagger your stride for a minute? Bitches, please! (Okay, that last one might have been a bit much even for my crankiest self, jus’ sayin’.)
Anyway, you get the point, and I invite you to join me in what should really be our new national pastime (baseball’s not for everyone, yo).
The guy who rolls down his car window and is blowing his cigarette smoke at you when you’re trapped at a stoplight next to him? Side eye. That woman who can’t say more than two words without also inserting an obligatory “like” to express how she really feels about something? Side eye. Punk kids doing, well, pretty much anything? Side eye.
Gosh, I’m just so glad we’re all in this together now. How about you?