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Showing posts with label bad manners. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad manners. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

It's Not Cute

When I was young and staying in my birthplace for a couple years, I picked up a saying from my mom and her church friends. If they saw someone doing anything ignorant, "too-grown," they'd say, "That's not cute." What they were really saying, "You think you're being cute, but you're not."

It was never cute to disrespect anyone older than you by half a minute, chew gum in church, snap your chewing gum anywhere, dress inappropriately, act too "fast" or "mannish," and do anything else that a lot of people do when they just plain being stupid. My mother called it acting like you hadn't been raised right.

Some examples of what's considered "not cute" are: talking too loud in public, using "cuss word" in public, not saying "Please" and "Thank you", dressing like a video vixen (or a Kardashian), a woman smoking while walking down the street, bagging-sagging pants, popping and rolling your neck to make a point. The list goes on and on, but being rude - in any way, shape or form - is Number One in the game.


Some people do "not cute" stuff because they really don't know any better. Maybe they still have some maturing to do. Maybe they didn't have a mother like mine who would smack you on the ass until you learned. My mom was a talented ass-smacker. If I did something mean or rude, my ass would be burning before I even saw her hand move. She was like Jackie Chan or Bruce Lee. And, when I got old enough where Mama felt like I needed a different deterrent, her method was public shaming. Instead of a smacking (or switching), I'd get a talking-to on the spot - no matter how embarrassing. Matter of fact, I think that was the point. One time, I got in trouble right in front of a boy I liked. I was probably 14 or so. Mama stopped what she was doing, turned and looked at me as if I'd lost my mind and used my first, last and middle name to tell me I'd better sit my little narrow ass down. (Notice I said this happened one time. That's all it took for months.)


Anyway, I had recently had an experience that made me think of people who do things that are just Not Cute.

The other day I was in a store, picking up a few groceries. I happened to pass by one of the tallest women I've ever seen in person (and there are some tall women in my fam, like my niece who stands at 5'11"). This heffa had to be about 6'3" and the reason I call her a heffa is because she had a stinky-assed attitude. She wasn't beautitul or anything, but she did have a "handsomeness," if you know what I mean. She had great skin and really nice eyes. Of course, her teeth could have been blue for all you could tell if you were waiting on her to smile.

Well, a lot of shoppers were kind of gawking at her. It was understandable, kind of. She was so tall, and about as big as a spindle. She had that walk that models (or really beautiful, really confident or really snotty people) have. The snotty wasn't evident at first.  I mostly noticed her outfit (gorgeous!), her shoes (gorgeous-er!) and her purse (sigh......). When she was in line right next me, one young family of four were practically boring holes in her with their eyes. I had stared a bit myself until I remembered my home-training. Staring at anyone who isn't acting a fool is, in my book, rude. Personally, it would have made me uncomfortable. So what do I do? I smile at her and say something like, "I love your outfit. It's really nice."

Now, please forgive me for just about wanting to leap up 3 feet and smack the shit out of this heffa when she looked down her nose at me and says, "Fuck you."

Okay. Those are not the words she used, but that's what her snotty "Thank you" sounded like. What. A. Bitch.

I turned back around and thought, "I hope you fall your bony ass over in those
Louboutin's." Or, at least, I'm pretty sure I just thought it. I don't know, though; the cashier was laughing about something and looking like he wanted to high-five me.

You know me. I hate rudeness. All the way on the drive home, I was shooting hateful thoughts toward the Towering Titless Wondergirl. I decided that her outfit wasn't that damn cute, her shoes were probably BOGOs from Payless with the bottoms painted red by her, and that I would never carry a freaking eggplant colored Chanel bag, ever. (The purse thing won't be a problem. Have you ever priced one of those bitches?)

Anyway. Once I got over my heatwave of temporary hatred for that cow, I did kind of feel sorry for her. First of all, her nasty attitude overshadows any physical beauty. Second of all, I've noticed that people with that kind of attitude are only that way because they haven't found a real personality yet. Besides, she obviously never had a mom who taught her what's just not cute. That right there deserves sympathy.

Peace
--Free