I have come to the conclusion that I am too polite … sometimes. Reached said conclusion yesterday. Went to a bank to close out savings accounts for my daughters. Although they are legally adults, when the accounts were started, I was the custodian. So I had to drag my happy self to some no name bank and tell them to show me the money. Can it ever be easy? Mais, non! And I am so s-l-o-w; instead of replying with a snarky answer to inquisitions, I tell the truth. Aghhhhhhh! Below are actual, ridiculous questions I’ve been asked, and the replies I wish I’d made.
Bank person: Why do you want this money? Give me a minute here … ok, because it’s mine? I plan on starting a minute drug cartel? Implants, definitely implants. Need new tires? Down payment on a heart transplant?
Job interviewer: Why do you want this job? You are highly over qualified? Well, it’s about that stuff called food. Because I want to leave my brain at home and get paid to be a moron. Because I intend to drop this gig like a rock as soon as something better comes along. Because I am a masochist.
Friend(?): How much alimony did you get? Uh, enough to move far, far away from nosy people like you? Enough for a tent, a dog and a shopping cart? Enough to buy a firearm … you’d best start running and bobbing.
Friend(?): What do single people eat? Usually unruly children, expired tuna fish, and anything we can find on our daily dumpster dive. We depend on the kindness of strangers. Nothing, go buy me a boatload of groceries right now!
Friend(?) in front of a group: You went out with ______? Did you have sex? Yes, went out with ___, he drove me through Long John Silver’s but we didn’t order any sex. Yes, went out with ___, but when I said ixnay to sex, he beat the hell out of me. No, didn’t go out with him, he had to wash his hair.
Why, oh why, can’t I just say, “It’s none of your business?”