the sad truth
I came to an unpleasant but not unexpected conclusion the other night. I'm not a very likeable person. It was 1am and I was sitting with my former colleague and "friend" Fat Tony at Billy Ray's Neighborhood Dive on MLK (my favorite bar, if I haven't told you that in awhile), celebrating his last shift at the Oasis.
The story of how I realized I'm not likeable is boring. I won't tell it. I'll just tell you that I was sitting there, listening to my drunk "friend" Fat Tony giving me this long, self-aggrandizing speech about why he's a social worker (he does it for the clients, not the money, it warms his heart to do something meaningful for people, to really make a difference, etc) and I was just watching him as he talked and I was thinking "You are a worthless sack of shit."
And you know what? That kind of thinking is unlikeable, even if it *is* accurate.
Further, I realized that I was really hoping Fat Tony would fail in his new endeavor. Why? Because he's a lazy, incompetent, insubordinate, selfish, worthless asshole who seems to have some kind of charmed life. Who has dazzlingly childlike confidence that everything he does is golden. Who doesn't care about anything so nothing can hurt him. Who can live on practically no money b/c he doesn't care if he doesn't have heat in his house and b/c he has no problem asking people for beer or cigarettes when he wants a drink or a smoke. And he's strikingly handsome and seems to have a never-ending stream of cute young girls who want to sleep with him. He is my friend and my secret nemisis. And I want him to fail.
Fat Tony is a writer and a lot of our friendship outside of work has involved talking about writing. Fat Tony has quit his job at the Oasis a full month in advance of the start of his next job so that he can "work on the great american novel" for a solid month. No work, no money, no problem. I have read a short-story and play of his and I was not impressed, but then, I don't *want* to be impressed. I want him to suck at something that he cares about. B/c I'm a terrible person, in addition to being unlikeable.
Anyway, I could go on and on about this and that's exactly my point. I can get so wrapped up in thinking about a lot of negative stuff. WHY??? What is so pleasureable to me about my negativity? It's like a familiar, scratchy, pox-infested blanket that I love to curl up in while I hiss and spit at the world. Maybe this is why I'm spending so much time alone these days...? Who knows.
So, my goal is to try and peel off the pox-infested blanket and take a lesson from my nemesis... I mean... friend Fat Tony. He may be a worthless sack of shit, but at least he's sunny and positive most of the time. And he usually gives people the benefit of the doubt, which is a lot more than I can say for myself.
Ok... so... if you hear groaning and shrieking, that's just me enduring a painful attitude adjustment...
The story of how I realized I'm not likeable is boring. I won't tell it. I'll just tell you that I was sitting there, listening to my drunk "friend" Fat Tony giving me this long, self-aggrandizing speech about why he's a social worker (he does it for the clients, not the money, it warms his heart to do something meaningful for people, to really make a difference, etc) and I was just watching him as he talked and I was thinking "You are a worthless sack of shit."
And you know what? That kind of thinking is unlikeable, even if it *is* accurate.
Further, I realized that I was really hoping Fat Tony would fail in his new endeavor. Why? Because he's a lazy, incompetent, insubordinate, selfish, worthless asshole who seems to have some kind of charmed life. Who has dazzlingly childlike confidence that everything he does is golden. Who doesn't care about anything so nothing can hurt him. Who can live on practically no money b/c he doesn't care if he doesn't have heat in his house and b/c he has no problem asking people for beer or cigarettes when he wants a drink or a smoke. And he's strikingly handsome and seems to have a never-ending stream of cute young girls who want to sleep with him. He is my friend and my secret nemisis. And I want him to fail.
Fat Tony is a writer and a lot of our friendship outside of work has involved talking about writing. Fat Tony has quit his job at the Oasis a full month in advance of the start of his next job so that he can "work on the great american novel" for a solid month. No work, no money, no problem. I have read a short-story and play of his and I was not impressed, but then, I don't *want* to be impressed. I want him to suck at something that he cares about. B/c I'm a terrible person, in addition to being unlikeable.
Anyway, I could go on and on about this and that's exactly my point. I can get so wrapped up in thinking about a lot of negative stuff. WHY??? What is so pleasureable to me about my negativity? It's like a familiar, scratchy, pox-infested blanket that I love to curl up in while I hiss and spit at the world. Maybe this is why I'm spending so much time alone these days...? Who knows.
So, my goal is to try and peel off the pox-infested blanket and take a lesson from my nemesis... I mean... friend Fat Tony. He may be a worthless sack of shit, but at least he's sunny and positive most of the time. And he usually gives people the benefit of the doubt, which is a lot more than I can say for myself.
Ok... so... if you hear groaning and shrieking, that's just me enduring a painful attitude adjustment...
posted by reasonably prudent poet at 12:42 PM
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