So keep your hands off a' my mojo, if you ain't got no stuff for me.
"You sound like a two year old." The man on the other side of the telephone said with a criticizing tone.
'Well, you sound like a very short and fat sh8head with penis issues.' Of course, I didn't say it out loud. He was a client. I'd only think it, and i didn't even mean it. It was an automated response. He insulted me, and I want to insult him back. I was upset.
I cried after I got off the phone. It could be PMS. It could be emotional instability. Who knows? But what he said truly hurt my feelings. And the fact that I couldn't say anything back hurt me even more.
Just like people cannot choose their height or how they look, I cannot help it if I sound like a kid. What gives him the right to condemn my voice? My voice does not impede my ability to work in any shape or form. I'm not a singer, story reader, or tele-spokeperson. I merely work in an office, doing data entry, pushing papers, and answer phone calls when other people are too busy to pick it up.
I knew I should just shake it off. But, I couldn't.
"I'm not answering the phone any more," I told Pete.
"Well, then he succeeded in disturbing your universe," Pete said, "don't allow him to make that much impact on you."
Pete was right. There are assholes in this world that go around advertising their ugliness to other people. Fortunately, they are the minority, only a pinch in the whole of the populace. Unfortunately, they make the world stinks for the rest of us.
So, here's to you, Mister Meannie. I don't know what sort of cruelty you have witnessed for you to become such a bitter man, but I hope the world will show you that kindness can take you places that a miserable bitter man could only dream of. May life show you compassion and may you learn to treat people with respect and consideration.
Until then, be gone! I don't want the likes of you in my universe.