Like watching two French courtiers slap each other with hankies
I'm not proud of saying "fuck you" to a couple of Nader petitioners on the Exton train station platform this morning, but it was a knee-jerk response. In fact, I'd probably do the same thing again, except hopefully without the overwhelming aura of Pissy White Man that makes me curl my toes with embarassment when I think about it.
What's worse, I'm pretty sure that I steeled Sasha's reserve to get out there on the mean streets of Chester County and spread Naderism even in the face of occasional rude language from liberals. I guess I'm the deluded patsy of the Republican party today.
I'm not proud of saying "fuck you" to a couple of Nader petitioners on the Exton train station platform this morning, but it was a knee-jerk response. In fact, I'd probably do the same thing again, except hopefully without the overwhelming aura of Pissy White Man that makes me curl my toes with embarassment when I think about it.
[John is walking to train platform, trying to avoid what look like two Greenpeace canvassers with thick clipboards.]Now, reading this, it looks fairly charitable to me, like I got the upper hand in the argument. Doubtless, if Nader stumper Sasha has a blog (which seems likely; we're practically demographic doppelgangers,) it will read the other way around. You have to remember, though, that Pissy White Man Mode means that all retorts and rejoinders are delivered in a high-pitched, whiny, half-smiling and TOTALLY FUCKING EMBARASSING way. Even if I had the forethought to call the Nader stumpers "deluded patsies of the Republican party," I wouldn't have managed to deliver it with a two-fingered poke in the chest, gravel in my voice, and steel in my eye; it would have come out more like "Do you have a pass to be in the lunchroom right now? You don't? I'm gonna tell the principal!" Kate tells me that if I insist on aspirating the "wh" in "where" and "wheel", I'm never going to convince anyone that I'm about to pull their arm off and hit them with it.
Canvasser #1: (Early thirties, slightly built, wearing denim-y shirt) "Sir, would you like to sign this petition to put Ralph Nader on the ballot for..."
John: (surprised) What? No! Fuck you! (walks away)
Canvasser 1: (calling after John) Up... up yours!
John: (PWM mode activated) What's your name?
Canvasser #1: (PWM mode activated) Sasha.
John: Sasha what? You think Ralph is gonna be happy you're shouting "up yours" at commuters?
Sasha: What's your name? (Gets out pen and reversed business card, ready to write.)
John: Why, so you can sneak me onto that petition? Hell no!
Sasha: I'm an attorney, and you can't go around saying... (pauses) "F-U" to people!
John: Sure I can!
Canvasser #2: (younger college student, fairly amused by PWM display) A simple "no" would have sufficed.
John: No, I disagree. I wanted a "no" with some mustard on it, a "no" plus a foot up Sasha's ass here, so you guys will stop taking votes away from any candidate that can beat Bush! Christ, I can't believe you guys aren't used to this by now! Don't you get this response twelve times a day?
Sasha: You're the first "F-U" we've gotten.
John: Well, hopefully it won't be the last. (Walks towards train, which has arrived)
Sasha: (calling after) You just got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!
What's worse, I'm pretty sure that I steeled Sasha's reserve to get out there on the mean streets of Chester County and spread Naderism even in the face of occasional rude language from liberals. I guess I'm the deluded patsy of the Republican party today.