Not My Issue

          So much has happened in a short period of time that I’ve been too caught up in the happenings to realize that I need to stop and look around every once in a while. Well, I’m doing that now and I have to say that you all look as fabulous as ever, if not better. Except for that one guy in the very back. Dude, really?

          I’ve been concentrating on writing other things this past while. Nope, not telling. At least not yet anyway. My hope is to have it turn out, at the very least, half as good as it sounds in my head. Let’s just see how it plays out first. I certainly don’t want to get your hopes up just to yank the rug out from under you. I may just fall flat on my face. Either way, there will be a big laugh or two.

          Speaking of self-deprecation, not that I was anyway, a funny thing happened the other day. I was talking with a close friend, in public, the other day and the conversation strayed just a wee bit as it tends to with us. Now, let me preface this by saying that I was aware of all of the stupidity of people, with their involvement in not only things that they know nothing about, but also things that do not concern them in any way whatsoever. That being said, here’s the deal.

          As I mentioned previously, it was self-deprecating. The jokes and comments were going back and forth, as they tend to, with an escalation of jabs at each other, as they should be, with each feeding off of the previous one, as is life. All in good fun. Anyone with even a miniscule sense of humour would find this shit funny. All of this without any profanity. I swear to God. Not one swear word whatsoever. Although there was plenty of opportunity to litter the conversation with a wide variety of choice expletives, we abstained.

          As it turns out, from our banter, we offended a few people. And, wouldn’t you know it, they made a point of telling us so. It turns out, five people were offended, and two women covered their kid’s ears. Seriously?

One woman actually walked over from across the aisle to voice her disgust. I truly don’t think that she could hear everything that was said, but just wanted to get in on the complaint. I was looking for the token cell phone videographer as the scene she was creating seemed to be more important than the point she was trying to make.

          Just how unimportant have we become, for fear of offending someone. I say fuck-em. You being offended is not my issue, it’s yours. You deal with it. Why should I have to endure a suck-hole problem that isn’t mine? Keep your peanut allergy, diabetic crybaby away from my lunch, because, today I have PB&J sandwiches. (I’m diabetic, by the way)

I’m not going to breath on you, rub it on you, chase you around the room with it, or throw it at you just to see you react. That would be cruel. But it’s my lunch and you have no say in the matter. Deal with your issue or just stay away. Simple.