Warning: Might be offensive to those who don’t like swearing and name calling.
I have been pretty mindful about using ‘names’ when I write about things. Names…you know…like, bitch, asshole, motherfucker…things like that.
But in real life I have a mouth like a truck driver. And I don’t know what they‘re truly like because I’ve never been on the road with one. The only interaction I’ve ever had with truck drivers while on the road is through a CB radio when I was a young teen.
A girl I used to hang out with…her mother hooked up with an older man who had a ton of money, had CBs in his cars. So when the mother and he were still dating (before they got married and moved away) this girl and I would sit out in whichever car he had driven down in, and talk on the CB.
Once I talked to a trucker when my brother (who was friends with my friend’s brother) and I went away with them for the weekend. And any truckers I spoke to on those radios, well, I never heard a swear word once.
So I don’t even know if that’s accurate of their behavior. I’m sure being a ‘lady’ they’d curb themselves. But I have no way of knowing that.I can only go by my own experience. And then it’s not like I talked to every trucker ever.
I grew up in a town where almost every single kid cursed. When I was really young though, living in the same town in another area and then moved to another town right next door, I didn’t curse. I didn’t even say, “God” as an exclamation. I used to say, “Gosh.”
Then I moved to a different area of that original town and met a bunch of kids. And that’s where I learned how prevalent the word ‘shit’ was.
I of course learned many many more words as time went on.
I started cursing up a storm when I wasn’t around my parents. I learned so many curse words, one of the ways I used them was to have a contest with my brother to see who could come up with the worst names to call each other. We weren’t actually intending to be mean, (a rarity for me when it came to my bro back then) it was more of a competitive thing and a way to have fun using these words we learned.
When I write here though, and when I write comments on YT, I refrain from cursing/swearing because I know people get offended for one. But also because most of the time it just doesn’t add to the conversation. I know I haven’t been perfect, I’m saying for the most part.
But irl, when I get angry, all kinds of words sling from my mind and out my mouth. I call people names, in private though, not to their faces. Maybe that makes it worse I don’t know.
And those people I curse out in my mind usually are people irl who do fucked up shit:
-Like keep walking straight toward me in the supermarket instead of moving to the side, like a considerate person would do if they were hogging up the middle of the aisle before someone else intruded on their entitlement.
-Tailgate (and I’m not talking about partying)
-Stand so close to you when they are in back of you in line, they clearly give themselves away as not understanding personal space.
-Let their dog walk all zig-zaggy, instead of teaching them to heal.
-Let their dog shit on someone else’s lawn whether they clean it up or not. If they’d been curbing the dog in the first place, the dog would not have done it at all.
At the house, I had a lady walk her little dog past the house when the dog took a dump right on the sidewalk by our lawn. My car was parked right next to where the pile of shit was. I saw the lady down the street, just a few houses down…which on a block of twins, that’s not very far.
I called down to her and said, “Could you come pick this up please.”
She began walking back up and then tried to tell me her dog hadn’t done it. I told her I’d seen her dog do it from my front window. I’d just happened to catch it as I was on my way out to my car.
She picked it up.
I don’t remember now, but I’m sure I had a few choice swear words for her.
This isn’t only to do with swearing though, but also making up derogatory names for people, usually neighbors.
When we lived in our house, there was a neighbor who lived behind us. He got a dog and then instead of walking her, he’d put her in the fenced in the yard for long periods of time. The dog would bark…INCESSANTLY. And so a couple times I went over to ask him to take the dog in.
The first time he obliged but the second time he said no and shut the door on me. As I was walking back to my house, he yelled out the window at me and said, “THIS HAS TO STOP!” And I said, “Yeah you’re right! It does have to stop.” And I walked away.
After that, I nicknamed him Spawn, which worked really well since his real name was Sean. And so from there on out I referred to him as Spawn each time I had anything to say about him to B.
As for the barking dog situation: One day in the summer Spawn had a party during the day and had his dog outside, who had been barking a lot. B and I went to the state park to go hiking that day. Once I’d seen what was going on, I knew for my sanity’s sake, I’d need to get out of the neighborhood. We were gone all day and afterward ended up at a bar. So we were actually gone all day and then all night.
The next day B was told by his mom, who lived next door to us, that the cops had come to Spawn’s house because they’d been called about the dog.
Ha! Talk about a problem solving itself. I was so happy it hadn’t been me. Because to be honest with you, it would not have been above me to make that phone call.
So now, I have come up with a nickname for our landlady, whose first name is Nancy. So the new nickname of Nasty I came up with, fits fucking perfectly.
I’ve already written about her in this post and the comments go into even more shit. So it’s pretty complete up to this point how much of an asshole she is.
And this brings me to the reason I started this post in the first place.
Yesterday I did a load of laundry. I went to the basement to get one load of clothes out of the drier and then put a rug in the drier from the washer. I started down the steps and as I got to the first landing, Nasty rounded the corner from the lower level.
I jumped because it scared the shit out of me. You know, hyper vigilance and all that. She said, “I heard you come out your door so I was hoping you heard me on the steps as well.”
I don’t know, when I startle someone I generally say ‘sorry.’ But not Nasty. Nope. She can’t be sorry about anything.
She actually moved aside for me though and I bolted down the steps and said nothing. She walked up the set of steps I had just run down and went into her apartment. She came back down to the basement to do something at the table down there, while I was still fucking around with the washer because it had a bunch of fuzzies from the rug I washed.
Once I’d finished what I was doing, I grabbed my basket of dry clothes and ran back up the steps, saying nothing again.
I noticed the main door to the building had been unlocked but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to talk to her at all. I was trying to relax and any kind of words between the two of us tends to stress me out hard…because she’s an asshole.
I also didn’t lock the door because I figured she had it unlocked for a reason. I forgot about it and really just figured she’d lock it when she went back up from the basement.
Last night I forgot about it, until I woke around 2:30 from some dream I don’t remember, to pee. And then I’d remembered I meant to ask B to make sure it was locked when he’d come in last night and forgot.
So this morning, around 7:30 when I got up again I saw B and asked him to make sure it was locked when he left for work. And proceeded to tell him a little bit of the story of why it had been unlocked in the first place.
He said, “Yeah, I saw it was unlocked last night when I came home and locked it.”
“Ok good.” And I went back to bed, but was too pissed off about Nasty’s carelessness to sleep.
Last night she also put her trash can in the street, so close to the trunk of my car, that if a wind kicked up, it would have fallen right onto my car. I was actually more concerned about one of the trash guys grabbing the trash can so quickly that they’d knock it into my car.
Thankfully B moved it away from my car when he got home and then proceeded to use her trash can to put our trash in.