Hey Asshole

     I am loathe to write this edition of my blog because it hits a little too close to home but as I have decided to let cowardice fade from my character like my ex-wife's last insult, let's get started.

     To be clear, I am an asshole.  You are an asshole.  Everyone I know and everyone you know is an asshole.  These are the facts.  These things are indisputable.  Not to your mother, not to your best friend, not to that cute little waitress that you keep over-tipping even though her service sucks, but to someone out there, you are indeed an asshole.

     I discovered and learned to embrace my own ass-holiness recently when it was pointed out to me by someone in my employ that I was indeed an asshole.  He didn't say the words.  He didn't yell at me or even curse me behind my back.  He simply agreed to do a job, the way I had asked him to do it and then, - wait for it-  wait- of course, then he DIDN'T do it.

     For a moment, I was mystified, shocked, maybe even a little blown away.  Had I not kissed the ass of this asshole hard or long enough?  Did my cash bounce?  I mean, I had just handed it to him.  Did my twenties and fifties suddenly lose their value once they slipped from my hand into his pocket?  Somehow in less than a minute I had transformed like an X-Man with worthless powers from a pretty decent guy into just another prick who was holding this man DOWN.

     I had become, THE MAN.  Not THE MAN in a good way, but THE MAN in the way that somehow diminishes another person's worth just by the association.  Again, he didn't say it.  He just looked at me with a certain disgust and lack of respect that was born solely and certainly from my desire to honor him and my work by bringing them together in what would surely be a marriage of talent and performance, of art and artist.  Instead I was simply creating an unholy alliance of spite and disappointment which could only produce a child of no discern-able kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus or species.

    F*%k!  I hate when that happens.  Not again!!!!!  Back to the lab boys, back to the lab....

     She is looking up at me with the eyes of a wounded baby seal and I am nothing but a starving Eskimo holding a battered piece of wood from which protrudes a long, jagged, rusted and deadly nail.  A nail which is covered in dried blood, broken flesh and shattered dreams.  Only thing is, I am no Eskimo.  In fact, I can't stand the cold.  When I go to MacDonald's for coffee, I have to microwave it for an extra three minutes on high heat, even on a hot day.

     She disarms me with a smile.  She whispers a tiny secret and I am defenseless.  She winks without the corners of her mouth turning up and I think that God has created a new universe with stars placed perfectly on the backdrop of the black tar sky.  To her, I am no asshole.  I am the purveyor of her wishes and the sandman for her dreams.

     I go back to work and my private usher to my new throne as King of the Assholes is there waiting.  Waiting to not do his job, waiting to not do what we agreed to, waiting to do again what I did not want but never to do what I wanted him to do.  Suddenly, I find that I have no anger for him.  I pay him no attention, I give him no purchase on this mountain, no hold on which to charge this hill.  Suddenly, I find myself back in my Eskimo dream.  The cool winds that blow now only serve to remind me that maybe I should enter every room from this day forward by bending over and walking into it backwards.  Perhaps this way I will be recognized by the other Assholes as their true King and they will move away quickly giving me a wide berth and straight path to my place in the sun.

     Perhaps this way, they will not hinder me from my true purpose, they will not delay me on my trek to her smile and my steaming cup of coffee.  Bent over and walking backwards with my face in my shins I doubt if they hear my screams to get out of the way but they do.  I have been recognized, I am bonafide.  They scurry away like fleas from a freshly dipped dog,  They have to move for I have wishes to grant and dreams to make come true!

     As usual, thank you for reading.  The images included in this blog remain the property of their owners.  Until next we meet, keep it clean kids.  No fish hooks, no biting and no eye gouging.  Oh wait, biting is alright.
D