December 30, 2011

Seent it #4: Asshole club...

"Seent it" is a southern phrase meaning "what I saw".  Why the vast majority of Eastern North Carolinians feel the need to add consonants onto the ends of words, I will never know, but I blame country slang for my life-long struggle with spelling.  Since moving to New York, I'vza seent a many crazeh thangs.  These stories make up the "Seent It" series.

It's no surprise that New Yorkers have some serious 'tudes.  I almost cried the first time someone almost pushed me down trying to get a seat on the subway.  And when people have something to say, they say it.  I've come to appreciate this.  Not so much the pushing and shoving, but my communication skills have vastly improved in the past six months.  I'm finally free of all the polite bullshit that is required in the South, where "Bless your heart" roughly translates to "I hope you choke on cactus dildo."  That being said, I'm still a very nice person.  I still hold doors, say "Thanks!", and give big smiles all around.  I've also kicked duschebags in the stomach.

Even though I'm beginning to ease into the New York State of Mind (yes, it's a proper noun), I still can't get over some of these people.  And by these people, I mean those people.  You know who I'm talking about.  They are all over the world.  They are every color.  They are in every social class.  They are every gender and every sexuality.  Remember that rich white guy who stepped on another person in the street?  Yeah, he's one of those people.  They are assholes.  They are hard to ignore because they know they are assholes and they want you to know they are assholes.  A mere hair flip in their general direction is not nearly enough to deal with them.  They are the people who genuinely need a good slap in the face and a huge reality check - mostly in the form of another good slap in the face.

Case in point:  I was in line at Taco Bell (HEY!  Don't start.  I love the Taco Bell.  Two massive bean burritos (vegan!) for three dollars?  HELLO!  It's also across the street from work.) and two hood bitches got in line behind me.  I'm allowed to say that because my friends who are hood bitches call themselves and other hood bitches "hood bitches," therefore, it is an accurate and socially acceptable stereotype (by nature a contradiction) to describe (usually) young, (usually) black, (usually) women from a (most-likely) poor part of town.  Clearly the majority of young black women from not-so-suave areas of the city aren't necessarily hood bitches, and it certainly isn't fair to judge people.  Unless they're assholes.

In the two minutes and forty-five seconds it took for a middle-aged man to prepare my burritos, these young ladies ordered their food, argued with each other over forms of payment (paper vs. coins), started arguing with one of the cooks who had nothing to do with anything at the register, and one of them promptly threw herself onto the counter.  She pushed all of the cups, display signs, hot sauce packets and a PIN code machine onto the floor.  She even managed to dislodge one of the firmly mounted (as in, screwed into the ceramic counter) registers.  Neither of them stopped screaming while all of this was happening, and the one not rolling around like my family's dog wallowing in her on poo actually had a nice vibrato, and would be a solid addition to the alto section of any regional community choir.

Obviously the entire restaurant stopped.  Everyone watched in bewilderment (and amusement) at these assholes making a huge deal over nothing.  And by nothing I mean nothing.  No one could figure out what the issue was, or if there was an issue at all.  Not even the cook they were arguing with knew what was going on.  They were just those people.  After only about a thirty-second fit, they trotted, trotted, out the door.  Everyone observing simply went back to their own conversations, perhaps with a lingering grin.  I was the only one obviously obsessed with what had just taken place.  I even went back to work screaming, "OH MY GOD YA'LL!  THERE'S SOME SHIT GOIN' DOWN AT THE TACO BELL!"

My point is that, even though these people are all over the world, even in small-town North Carolina,  they are somehow amplified in NYC.  They are assholes with a New York 'tude that just marinates in their asshole brains and eventually explodes out of their asshole assholes (i.e. faces).

And like I said.  I can't get over it.



  1. I am a New Yorker I have been here my whole life and sometimes when I walk down the Manhattan streets with the nasty and rude people I think "How the effe do I live here?"and then I get over it, remembering that I love the city and I don't think I could live anywhere else.

  2. Some people just have permanent stank face. It's just not cute.

  3. Someone told me once that NYC takes the way people already are & amplifies it.

    I think this is a case in point.


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