Originally Posted by Apathy's_Child
I hate some of my friends’ friends.
Random-Ass Girl Who Insists on Impinging on my Alone Time Before I Pick Up the Penny Whistle and Rock/Ruin the Party (My Pre-Show Breathing Space, If You Will): Ohmigod, man, you have brown circle under your eyes. Are you *dramatic I-care-I-really-do whisper* a junkie or something?
Me: No, just exhausted. The white trash across the street have been playing really bad music until the early hours, and unlike them I have to get up for work in the morning.
RAG: Man, that’s so, like, judgmental. Why would you assume they don’t work?
Me: Because last week they were in the street brawling at 3 a.m., and the woman was screaming at the dude that he needs to get a fucking job and be a fucking man and support their fucking kids. It’s hard to imagine he then proceeded to rise at 6.45.
*Word-gathering pause on her part*
Me: Of which there are five, in case you were wondering.
RAG: But why are they scum because there’s no work? I mean there’s a RECESSION on. Maybe he’s struggling to find work because all the employers are judgmental too. *clearly feeling she’s on firmer ground* You can’t call them trash because there’s no work.
Me: Actually, that’s a separate issue. I used the word “trash” because their eleven year old spat at my girlfriend a month or so back because she told him to get lost after he demanded a blow job when she was walking up to my apartment, and his mom, who was outside putting shit in their car, thought that was hilariously funny and started screaming at my girlfriend that she should “pull her head out of her ass and learn to take a joke”. The dad behaved better; he contented himself with flipping her the bird and high-fiving his son. [I'm not making this shit up, by the way]
RAG: Well, but, maybe the kid has ADD or something. And it looks like his home life isn’t so stable.
Me: No, it doesn’t look like it is.
RAG: I mean, that’s kind of REPUBLICAN of you, if you don’t mind some advice.
Me: Yeah, you know, you’re right. You’ve totally changed my whole view on the subject.
RAG: Oh, don’t mention it. I mean, you probably don’t understand what a disruptive upbringing can do to a kid, but trust me – it’s tough. MY parents are divorced, you know. So I can totally imagine what the kid’s going through.
Me: Yeah, you’ve right. I have NO IDEA what disruption’s like. Where are you from?
RAG: Oh, I live in Hunterdon.
Me: Oh really? So you live in a mansion? *half-kidding at this point*
RAG: Well, not as such. Y’know, six bedrooms, pretty standard fare.
Me: Riiiight.
RAG: * laughing moronically* I know, right? But it’s my mom’s, not mine. So I guess I’m not what you’d call affluent or anything. I mean, the security gates are only like thirty feet from our front porch, so we sometimes get noise on Saturday nights. REALLY disturbs my sleep some nights. [I would like to make it clear at this point that this is a real conversation, and has not been embellished for comedy value]
Me: No, well obviously. Clearly, your secluded mansion – sorry, your MOM’S secluded mansion - is the natural and legitimate place from which to dispense nuggets of social wisdom.
RAG: EXCUSE ME?
Me: Since you’re clearly challenged, my intended subtext is that tales from your fucking ivory tower are great when your 5’’3 girlfriend doesn’t have to walk past fucking abusive cunts every day just to get home.
*silence*
Now, if you’ll excuse, I’d like to warm up. *plays tin whistle until she walks away to bitch to her privileged friends about how some people just don’t understand that you ain’t been NEAR the ghetto ‘til you’ve lived in a mansion in Hunt*
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