Bent Words

Bent Words

February 09, 2008

I wish, often, that it werenít this way but, invariably, it is. This way. It always is. There arenít any circling, dodging, quick-paced moves within me that are deft enough to avoid it; there isnít any position which seems to remit its presence; there is nothing in a changed mindset which will allow me actual pardon; there arenít enough warnings or blatant slaps on the back of the head which could prevent this Ė it just always happens.

I F things up.

About five years or six, seven or eight, maybe nine, years ago, it really hit me. It was during or just after, maybe before, a fight I was having with an ex and he commented,

ďYa know, youíre like a goddamned Rhesus Monkey.Ē

I didnít know what a Rhesus Monkey was. I thought he meant that I was energetic. Like a monkey. Swinging around. And I like swinging. So I smiled. But then I found out that he meant that I was like that one stupid kid in every family who knows the pizza is still too hot to eat but goes at it anyway.

GOD I hate canker sores.

So thatís me.

I tried not to be that way Ė I tried to drop the Monkey Syndrome. I really did. I thought about everything before I did anything, I kept certain things straight and carefully thought about what I was going to say before I said anything. I worked out pros and I worked out cons and considered the best possible path which would most benefit me and secure the safety of those around me and even took the time to make sure that I asked guests if they wanted something to drink but FUCK if that wasnít too much damned work.


I have way too much going on in my head all at once. I canít make sure that everything is right before I step out the door. Itís just me over here, people, so I canít keep track of everything Ė I can barely keep the basics in line without jamming my fingers in a desk drawer so how am I supposed to just not F up?

Iím thinking about what Iím going to argue in my mock trial case for class. Iím thinking about how I could really use some bread to go with my last packet of tuna in the fridge. Iím thinking how the cats are probably eating the bristles on my broom again for lack of Purina. Iím thinking about rent, how much paper towel sucks for a toilet paper alternative, Iím thinking about Mr. Crackfat whoís the most important person, apparently, in Texas and obviously deserves a response to his third e mail inquiry regarding a discount on shipping for a part Iím selling on eBay for way under cost. Iím thinking about birthdays and about how, when you get older, there are way too many birthdays to think about so why does everyone just have to keep procreating as though it doesnít affect ME?

So, yeah. Iíve got STUFF on my mind.

Unfortunately, this trifle fact did not occur to my Ďbossí who decided a good bit of retribution for my having sold a part to an ex-co-worker at my cost would be for me to stay home for a Ďfew days.í

ďYou know the rules, Laura, and you signed the Employee Handbook which explicitly states that no one can use their discount for the purchase of store items for someone else.Ē

ďI do know the rules and I am genuinely sorry.Ē

ďBut youíve done this before,Ē said JabbaTheHut with a head turning a funny shade of red.

(He was saying that I was a Rhesus Monkey.)

ďI know, I know I did this before (once, when I didnít know it was wrong) but I wasnít thinking about it Ė I just did it.Ē

ďI canít accept that Ė I canít let you off the hook Ė you knew what you were doing. Brabble, brabble, brabble, brabbleÖ and brabble.Ē


I dig.

I get it. I Fíed up. Iím the monkey.

But itís not like I was sitting around waiting for my opportunity to turn the entire world upside down with devious acts of disloyalty to a company Iíve been associated with for eight years.

ďAh HA! Hereís my chance! Iíll show THEM, in the midst of this ridiculous recession, whoís boss! Iíll make them (under) pay!Ē

I wasnít purposefully looking for a way to be unable to pay my damned rent by taking Ďa few days off.í I wasnít desperately searching for punishment, hoping to be looked upon with slanted eyes and ready pointer fingers. These arenít goals I have written down on a piece of paper which I occasionally take out, entitled ďHow Laura Can Fuck Herself in Case Sheís Bored on Monday.Ē

I JUST wasnít thinking.

That was one moment which happened to catch me off-guard. I wasnít thinking and thus I made a $20 mistake and I immediately replenished that massive amount (which I ingeniously smuggled from the company) once I was Ďfound out.í I made amends, I apologized, I stitched the damned rip.

Still, no one seems to accept the fact that I just made a mistake. Instead, with the way Jabba spun the story, everyone finds it easier to believe that I have some dirty Other Side which pillages and plunders poor, hypocritical companies by skimming parts FOR SOMEONE ELSE out of inventory. I lied and cheated and apparently never thought Iíd get caught because, as everyone knows, I think Iím much smarter than them.

Besides itís altogether and entirely likely that I was thinking about how jeopardizing my health insurance over a set of fucking brake pads would be a nice way of changing things up a bit.

Iím sure that was itÖ

Really, if I was going to do something wrong, I would have just TAKEN the parts so as not to leave a damned paper trail. I would have skipped the whole obvious invoice thing and simply added on to the already-fucked-up-excuse-for-an-inventory system they all have. Or I could have just excavated the handy dandy unlocked safe at my leisure. I could have knifed Jabbaís nice 4WD, spit in his Slurpee or erased all the porn from his work PC if I were sincerely looking to do his petty little soul damage.

But, whatever.

Keep blaming me. Get bent at my blunders. Donít bother getting to know me and thus realizing what type of person I really am. Handing out benefits over doubt sounds a tad too much like work and we wouldnít want you to have to actually GET UP and remove the chair from your ass. Let us not worry ourselves over such small things as my wellbeing Ė Iíll just go ahead and be well somewhere else.

That way, you can hire your little high schoolers and pay them their little minimum wage and you can get your little minimum wage results.

Rhesus Monkey or not, working for YOU is one mistake I shanít work too hard on making again.

So thanks, but no thanks.

Written at 9:17 p.m.