my big mouth

I have a problem where I tell people exactly what I think of them. People I don't even know, or have just met are as easily susceptible as close loved ones or long term friends.

My mother has a favorite story that she tells about me. When I was very little, our next-door neighbor, Mrs. Stewart, would yell at my two older sisters and all of the neighborhood children whenever they would run through her yard. At one point, she had probably yelled at me as well, but I was too young to remember.

One day, when I was three, I was tooling around with my mother and grandmother in our backyard. (My grandparents were also our next-door neighbors, so Mrs. Stewart knew both my mother and grandmother.) I was happily picking raspberries when Mrs. Stewart walked into our yard to talk to them. I flipped my three-year-old lid and started screaming "get out of our yard! get out of our yard! GET OUT OF OUR YARD!"

To get your comeuppance hurts. To get it thrown at you by the complete honesty of a three year old has to sting something fierce.

My mother apologized and took me inside the house to "discipline me", which involved her laughing until she cried. This is probably where it all started. That was the crucial moment when I got the positive reinforcement from a parental figure that shaped who I am today.

I am a bigmouth who can't lie and will tell you exactly what I think of you, and some part of me, no matter how misguided, thinks that this sort of behavior will be rewarded. In a psychological/Transactional Analysis sense I am looking for "strokes" - be they positive or negative. I'm realizing this isn't the most handy tool to carry with me on my interpersonal toolbelt. It's sort of like spraying mace in somebody's face as they try to shake your hand.

Occasionally I will find my brethren, and we will become fast friends, like my friend Mike. One time, during the last "Targeted advertising" (re: junk mail) class of the quarter, an ex-boyfriend made a desparate last-ditch effort to get more class participation points by asking "What exactly is targeted advertising." to which Mike replied from clear across the room, "Haven't you been in class at all this quarter?" in an angry tone of voice that suggested he could have easily followed it up with "you f'ing moron." We were friends before this, but at this moment I knew we would be friends for life. However, it can cut both ways. For example, one time when I spit my gum out into a trash-can with an emphatic "Phoo!" instead of discretely wrapping it in something and quietly dropping it in, Mike laughed and said "Classy". Like all true addicts, we just don't know when to quit.

So the last two times this has been an issue were in public places

Situation 1: In the Dulles airport, a TSA representative informs us that we will have to move to another area to get into the transportation screening line. One guy can't get there fast enough, and starts walking past us really quickly, and then knocks over some luggage from people who are walking in the opposite direction. Then he steers his rolling luggage dangerously close to a baby stroller. He gets comments from several folks who he nearly runs over with his Samsonite, "Hey!" "Watch it!" "That was rude!"

As usual, I can't help myself.

"Hey fella, we're all going to the same spot, do you need to take up the entire walkway?"

"Why don't you mind your own business?"

Then I got testy.

"Well, Jesus, just how wide are you, sir?"

"F*ck you."

Situation 2

I am standing behind a couple at a rest-stop McDonalds on the PA turnpike. The poor teenager who has to fulfill orders near the holiday gives the man his coffee. "Goddamn!" the man says. "You didn't need to put that much sugar in my coffee! Get me a new one. My God!"

I swear I wasn't going to butt-in, but then the guy turns around to me and says "Gosh, what are you gonna do?" as if to say "I had no choice. Too much sugar in my coffee and I'm a real b*tch! This McDonald's clerk totally deserved it!" I would have perhaps stayed out of it, but the fact that this lowlife was looking for backup or the feeling that he was justified in accosting a stranger with profanity was too much.

"Do you think swearing at the clerk was appropriate?" I asked.

"What do you care?"

"I think you could have had the same result without having to swear at that young man. Have a good day sir."

"You don't hope I have a good day. You want me to burn in hell."

And he said it in such a creepy way. It was compounded by his sleazy John Waters style mustach, his wierd pedophile shirt (striped button up, yellowed with age, short sleeves, mock turtleneck underneath), and his beleaguered wife - who looked like life had handed her a crap sandwich. I wanted to point all of these things out to him, as if to say "Listen, glass house man. Stop treating people like crap - you need all the good karma you can get."

So I settled for "No, but I think you should treat people with more respect." and then walked away. I was trying to keep it classy in a bad situation.

I swear I'm gonna get shivved someday.