“It’s not that I don’t like you; ok, it is that I don’t like you.” A normal conversation I had with a stranger during a night out.
I call it being blunt or overly honest. Most people call it being an asshole. Rather than fight over terminology with these bastards, I simply smile and say, “Yea, that’s me.” I embrace my inner asshole, because I enjoy it, and well, I’m good at it.
“What do I think of you? Oh, you’re annoying as fuck,” I recently told the roommate of a friend when she asked for my opinion.
You may ask how does one become an asshole? Does it just take a lot of practice? Maybe a cold, bitter shell of a life filled with constant disappointment and failure, coupled with years of frustration makes a heart cold and allows the hate to come bubbling to the top like lava from a volcano that lay dormant for thousands of years. Or maybe it’s genetics.
“So what [if you broke through the ice and were waste-deep in freezing water]. The wind will dry that off. Now leave me alone, I’m trying to fish,” my father exclaimed when I was a young boy.
Being an asshole is more then just words; it is also your actions. Having a cigarette even though you don’t smoke in front of someone who recently quit. Driving 20 mph during rush hour on John Nolan Drive to save gas. Voting Republican.
“You must be glad that survival of the fittest isn’t in play anymore, or you would have died a long time ago,” I commented to my roommate a week after moving in.
I have learned that life is about choice, and we are required to live with the decisions we make. Occasionally each of us makes the wrong choice. When this happens, if you for my opinion, I will not be afraid to tell you that you fucked up. Some call it being an asshole, others a friend.
“That was fun. You can go now.”
I appreciate candor. If I have a shitty haircut and smell bad, tell me. What are friends for? But the true test of friendship is whether you can share a beer after these moments of candor.
Thanks for being an asshole, Jason.
Truth is always better than frosting.
..aaaand that was from The Whole Nine Yards.
thank you, thank you [waves to crowd]
Ahh, what a dilimma: to be blunt and say it like it is? or sugar coat it to the point of making a meaningless statement? Ann Landers, Mrs. Manners, the ever popular, early ’90′s game “Scruples” and Balthazar Gracion (a mentor of Machiavelli) have all tried to deal with this pervasive question. Does “You’re annoying” have the same meaning as “You’re annoying as fuck”? At a recent diversity training course, we’ve learned how one’s words can give an “Ouch!” to another and are taught what filters we can put into place (aside from that aspect in our brain that already controls impulses) to assist us in avoiding making “Ouch!”es. But while you’re waiting in line at some theme park for the newest roller coaster and the couple behind you is inching ever so closer so as to leave NO room whatsoever on that off chance someone tries to jump 14 waiste high railings to land between you and them all the while acting like they are in some soft core porn movie, would the appropriate response be “Excuse me, I would appreciate it if you left a little room between yourselves and me,” or “Dude, get the fuck back and stop trying to crawl up my ass.” Philosophers will never know, but assholes do!