To all my girls– with snaggleteeth or frizzy hair, with ethic eyes or big boobs, who are too tall or too short, who have skin like cocoa or butter or cocoa-butter, who are curvy or boney, who like women or men or gardening and their cocker spaniel, who try and se themselves as more than the rest of the world sees them, who are tired of their power and status in everyday interactions like at the blockbuster counter have an obvious connection to their sexual allure;
To all my guys– who are labeled ‘delinquints’ because they ride skateboards by the same fatass CEO’s and officers who like to sit all day in their lazy-boy recliner in front of a PC or in their justice-mobiles, respectivly, noshing on steak or two maple bars, also respectivly , to all my guys who keep their ethnic heritage at home in the closet and are forced to act white in public to get respect, who are old enough to fight in iraq but too young to sip on on Bud, physically use walkers but are mentally up to speed, who are honest enough to wear their gayness on their sleeve;
To all the old, young, brown, black, yellow, green, poor, middle class, people- with or without breasts- this is for you;
I am tired of being treated like a fucking moron.
Here is a little ancedote I like to call My Optomitrsit is a Patronizing Asshole, based on a true story ,of course. Disclaimer: I didn’t wake up ( at 12:30, nonetheless) today sunny and cheery. I herebye apologize to the Martha Stuart Empire for my failure to be the perfect cheery female.Even after a roadtrip. And drugs.
Today I had an appointment with the optomitrist. Anyone who has glasses or contacts already knows the optomitrists are by far more creepy than any other doctor, including the gyno and the dentist. Mine is no exception. The dead giveaway is his profession, but the secondary clue to his douche-y-ness is his salt’n’pepper chef boyarde bushy mustache. I relectantly go to his office, with the extra push of a shotty right eye. He greets me with a nasaly, monotone “helloooo” and leads me into his office. I sit. He sits. He asks what’s wrong. I tell him my right eye is not sharp. He checks my eyes trough that annoying ‘which is better: 1 or 2?’ test. He tells me i have a mild stigmatism which is causing the blur. I say, oh, that makes sence.
“Can we correct it with contact lenses?”, I asked.
” No”, he replied.” your stigmatism is bad enough for you to notice but not worth the extra cost of special contacts.”
Now, the exchange should have ended their. Why I sat in that god-forsaken office for another 30 minutes is due to his patronizing ass. Maybe he treats all of his patients like he treats me, like we are mentally retarded repeating himself 15 times ‘what is not vewy goody in my peek-a-boo spot’, but I cannot honestly imagine him speaking to a male that way, especially a white one, and especially an adult. The dude rexplained himself, literally repeated himself, umpteen times, even after I specifically told him twice, ” Thank you. I completly understand the situation.”
I’m sick of being treated like an idiot who can’t understand jack shit.I’m also sick of my opinions being a novelty in a conversation, or the fact that i have many is eithr considered cute or masculine/bossy instead of legitimate.
I don’t think I’m the only one in the neighborhood who experiances this. But I’m sick of absorbing the punches instead of shouting when i get hit. So here is this blog, i shall absorb no more….yeah, that’ll stick it to the man. take that, man!