In general, I am a pretty reticent person. Oh sure, you may think that just because I swear a lot and like to shag my boyfriend and run a large engineering team with all the delicacy of Pavarotti trying to find his dick for a clown punching session that I'm a tough chick who doesn't take any guff. But this isn't actually the case-I'm the one who has never sent a dish back to the kitchen no matter how much I didn't like it. I've never had a showdown with a sales assistant in a shop. And when I was working in sales myself in university I was never, ever rude.

Maybe it all comes from having a father who felt that service people were something to be disdained and toyed with-it was a regular issue to have me or someone else in my family go back and apologize for his behavior. I am actually polite to the point of being nearly pathetic about it-the first words out of my mouth tend to be "I'm sorry", like when I had surgery not long ago and apologized profusely for asking for more pain medication as I didn't want to be any trouble. Angus gets a bit frustrated with me as I'm polite sometimes to the point of being meek, and there is a fine line between polite and taking one up the ass. I haven't found this line so easy to not traverse, so my butt? She is well lubed.

But lately, perhaps due to hormones, spring being in the air, or some other lock being sprung inside of myself, I've been fighting back.

And it feels good.

On Saturday I had to go to the shop as we were out of those essentials every house needs like milk, toilet paper, and cheese (God forbid we ever run out of cheese. Cheese and fresh juice, those are the very minimum staples here. Without the two of them, life isn't worth living.) I parked in a parking space with faint lines and got the shopping cart (called a trolley here, but I feel like a real dick calling it that. I also like to call it a "trundler", which is what they call it in New Zealand, because then I imagine I'm pushing around someone in the midget WWF, but maybe that's just weird.) As I got said cart, I notice an older couple walking around my car. They peer into it. They walk around it again. Now, it is a horrible car-it's Angus' import from Sweden. It's a minivan (or what they call a people carrier here) and it's a real wreck but we don't care, as it's paid for, it gets us to and from the train station and the shops, and when it finally dies it'll just get junked.) but that's no reason why it can't be parked in the shopping lot of the local poshy Waitrose. Ugly car people need food too, you know!

I go about my business when lo and behold, I hear "Will the owner of a red Ford Galaxy, license number..... please contact a member of staff?"

And it was indeed mine.

I go up to the cashier and ask what's up, and she tells me I've parked in a walking area. I shake my head. No I'm not, I'm parked in a parking space. She sniffs and tells me it was a parking space, now it's a walking space and everyone knows that.

Everyone but the poor American driving an ugly car, I guess.

So I go out and move it and older couple sniff and huff around me. I want to scream at them: Is this the basis of your life? Is this all you have, to go report cars parked in secret walking spaces? You're sad, and pathetic, and you know it.

But I haven't crossed that bridge yet, I don't say a word, I just move it.

As I check out the older couple is behind me. I unload the goods, and among them I have lots of wine and pregnancy vitamins. No, I am not pregnant. But since undergoing a whole rash of illnesses in the past few weeks my doctor recommded I take pregnancy vitamins as they have all I need plus they're low on iron, which is good as iron makes me violently ill. The cashier looks at me.

"Are you French?" she asks.

I put things into a bag, and naturally the bag falls apart and I have to get a new one and re-pack. "No, I'm an American," I reply. An American who can't pack groceries, obviously.

The older couple is staring at the wine and the vitamins with a look of sheer and utter condemnation. I look at them and think-Who the fuck are you to judge me? The dam breaks. "The baby, he's craving some vino," I say.

They gasp.

Now, before you lecture, I accept that was not a good thing to say. I am not subscribing to the idea of drinking while pregnant (and if I were pregnant, I wouldn't drink), nor do I think fetal alcohol syndrome is funny in the slightest. The brain had simply disconnected the "socially correct" button for one moment.

But the lack of social correctness aside, it felt good to at least fight back.

This trend has continued.

Since moving, the estate agents (who hate us nearly as much as we hate them) have been slow in getting our deposit back to us from the house we were renting. At first it was because they demanded we prove we sprayed for pestilence as we have two cats, which got a hot letter back from us stating that no where in the contract did it say we had to do that and we are dilligent about our girls-they have regular flea and tick treatment and we can get the vet to attest to how clean and well-maintained they are, if the estate agent wants. The agents then dropped that one. As the deposit's about £1600, it's money worth fighting for, especially as we nearly killed ourselves in getting that place picture perfect when we left.

Angus has been ringing them for a few weeks now, and I rdecided yesterday to go ahead and join in the game of Chutes and Ladders. The manager Sue promised to call me back yesterday. She didn't. I rang her this morning when the post came, sans deposit check.

"Hi, this is Helen calling for Sue?" I ask chirpily.

"Oh....um... sorry, she's just picked up another line, can I get her to call you back?" asked the nervous receptionist.

"No, actually. Sue's not reliable in actually calling people back, so I think I'll just hold." I say back nicely.

I stay on hold for a few moments, then Sue picks up.

"This is Sue," she says wearily.

"Sue!" I chime brightly, as though we are buddies and the friendship bracelets we made this weekend while quaffing chardonnay and popping pregnancy vitamins are ready. "It's Helen! I know you were going to call me yesterday but I guess you just got SO BUSY that you just plum forgot!"

"I didn't forget," she snapped. "The accounting department had no update for me, so I had nothing to tell you. They said it was the end of the month and their computers were down, they couldn't do your check."

"Your computers go down the end of every month?" I say with Alice in Wonderland wonder. "Wow, how do you do business?"

"They say they've got your check at the top of the pile to do today, so you should have it by Saturday," she says crossly.

"Oh excellent!" I squeal. "So I'll ring you tomorrow to confirm it's gone out. And if I don't get it Saturday, then I'll ring you again!"

"The accounting department is closed on Saturday," she states frostily.

"That's not my problem," I reply sweetly. "Sue, the sooner you get the check to us the sooner we'll all be out of each other's lives, and won't that make us all so very happy?"

"Indeed," comes the icy reply.

"Great!" I bubble like Strawberry Shortcake so strung out on acid that she just shagged both Blueberry Muffin and the Purple Pieman* and was looking to branch out further. "I'll ring you tomorrow then. Buh-BYE!"

Oh Sue. These days? Yeah. I can out-bitch you anytime.

-H.

*I couldn't for the life of me remember the bad guy from Strawberry Shortcake days, so I looked it up and found it here. The site was so nauseatingly cute it's shorted my social button again, so I'm going to go either vomit or work over the next sales caller I get on the home phone. Either way, it should work the saccharine out of my system nicely.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 09:28 AM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
Post contains 1482 words, total size 8 kb.

1 Those were both awesome. So have you called Sue yet today?

Posted by: selzach at May 04, 2006 12:14 PM (KZQXB)

2 The older I get the more I relish when I get to be a bitch. Is that wrong? I've decided no-years of apologizing for shit that wasn't my fault has honed my bitchy abilities. Time to put them to good use, only in the proper situation of course. The rest of the time I am a real sweetie, which makes my bitichiness all the more potent when it is unleashed. Well played, Helen. You do a bitch proud.

Posted by: Teresa at May 04, 2006 01:02 PM (D6zpo)

3 "The baby, he's craving some vino," I say. You go! lol They deserved a lot more than they got. And as far as Sue, it sounds like she needs to get laid.

Posted by: Ice Queen at May 04, 2006 01:45 PM (iubre)

4 haha i love it! i'm usually non-confrontational, so i'll let most shit slide (unless i'm driving, then i spout profanitiy). but some days, things just fly out of my mouth before i can stop them. and it DOES feel good

Posted by: geeky at May 04, 2006 02:11 PM (ziVl9)

5 Dude. Grocery stores are the best place for the shorting of the social correctness button. I once had a woman behind me who looked like she had been rolling in dirt, hadn't brushed her hair, was missing a few teeth, and was eating in line for the grocery. I was buying Healthy Choice frozen dinners, and with each one that got scanned she piped up about how bad they were for me and how preservatives can make you have a heart attack and since I'm obviously trying to lose weight it's better to eat freshly prepared meals. Until I turned to her with a smile and said, "That's rich, from someone who's chomping down a SLIM JIM like her life depends on it." *hair toss* It felt so good.

Posted by: amy t. at May 04, 2006 03:07 PM (zPssd)

6 You know what else is cool? When your server keeps giving you the "THIS PAGE CANNOT BE FOUND" when you try to post your comment, but it is posting it anyway! So then you get to look like a tool because you posted your lame comment 4 times!

Posted by: amy t. at May 04, 2006 03:13 PM (zPssd)

7 I'm with Geeky on the profanity-while-driving, esp. when confronted with a street full of undergrads on cell phones... But when they can actually hear me, I NEVER say anything. Go Helen!

Posted by: a duck at May 04, 2006 04:28 PM (IPLk+)

8 duuuuude. I bow before your greatness. I love messing with people's heads!

Posted by: caltechgirl at May 04, 2006 05:30 PM (/vgMZ)

9 Awesome! Go you. Some days "That's not my problem" is the sweetest sentence in the English language. Savor the way it rolls off the tongue!

Posted by: ilyka at May 05, 2006 12:51 AM (1d5W/)

10 Dude, you're not meek. I was witness to you pull the same moves with the girl at Ulta. P.S. She asked me today if she could send you an Ulta card in the mail.

Posted by: statia at May 05, 2006 02:54 AM (56gUM)

11 god, i really hate, hate, hate nosy superficial busybodies who try to parent and police other adults. I'm a chronic rule-breaker in some regards. In fact, i think i'll blog about it.

Posted by: trouble at May 05, 2006 01:41 PM (j2vfb)

12 Maybe it all comes from having a father who felt that service people were something to be disdained and toyed with.. yours too? and he wonders why I stopped speaking to him almost 4 years ago. pfft.

Posted by: girl at May 05, 2006 02:12 PM (ZIi+3)

13 My sweet Helen has come a long way. Hope all is well

Posted by: drew at May 05, 2006 04:25 PM (DngOs)

14 That has to be the best strawberry shortcake analogical reference in history... BRILLIANT Go call and share it with Sue

Posted by: stinkerbell at May 08, 2006 09:41 PM (p6odB)

15 It's good to fight back sometimes, especially when you're in the right. Growing up, I used to get beat up a lot by bullies. Everyone would tell, "Ignore them and they'll leave you alone." First rule of bullies: they are emboldened when you don't fight back. I finally snapped one day at school, surprising the living crap out of all the teachers who were watching when I started kicking some dickhead's ass. After I served my two day suspension, the bullies, by and large, left me alone, which is all that I wanted in the first place. I guess they found easier game. Life is full of people just aching to stomp all over you. It gets worse when you let them. The only thing that some people understand is a show of force; verbal sniping counts as a display of aggression. Being a victim eats away at your soul, while standing up for yourself strengthens it. Stay strong.

Posted by: physics geek at May 11, 2006 12:52 AM (auFn9)

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