I used to be very precise in my choice of words when I was younger. Younger being before I partied all my brain cells away. Sometimes, it’s frustrating when I am searching for the perfect word, even if the person I’m talking to doesn’t care about nuances.
My work makes it imperative that I be mostly diplomatic talking in code, but every once in awhile, I just seize on the misuse of a word by another, and beat it to death. Shaddap. I didn’t say I was proud of it.
Case in point:
I was waiting for my yacht at the ferry terminal, where a young couple obviously found themselves short of the fare. The female, very pretty, and certainly used to getting what she wanted by dint of her appearance rather than her brainpower, approached me to make up the difference. I make the judgment about her brain power because, obviously, a man would have mortgaged his house for her. Yet? She approaches me.
Her: Miss, can you please lend me thirty cents?
Me: (struck with the absurdity of the request) Lend? LEND? What is your repayment plan?
Her: (visibly flustered, I can be such a tool sometimes) Just give me your name and address, and I will bring it back to you.
Me: (screwing up my face, like it’s a major decision whether to disclose my name and address to someone who doesn’t have thirty cents to ride the ferry) How about I just give it to you?
It’s okay. You can sneer. It was bitchy.
Cathy-Ellen Says:
