Yes, you heard me right! No longer must the public be exposed to BookAce’s sorry appearance. My condition is not unfixable! Praise the powers of plastic surgery and modern anesthetics, for they can save our eyes!
You see, I have a minor deformation of my jaw. Although it sticks out to me like a big huge YOU SUCK sign every time I see a mirror/picture, in reality it’s a very, very minor thing. Consequences are purely cosmetic. There are people living with much worse deformations that cause them real health dangers and pain. I’ve got a slightly fucked up chin. Mostly I pretend it’s not even there.
So I’m at work, about a half hour before I clock out, and it’s been a pretty decent day all in all. Lots of happy customers, got to hang out with River, not a lot of work to do, and our boss gave us candy. <3 Then along comes the Rude Ass Couple.
The husband is a typical business prick. Thinks he shouldn’t have to wait in line, demands attention immediately, his job is the most important and can’t wait, etc. It was his wife that got to me. She was also very entitled (“Well why DON’T you sell this resume paper in 5-sheet packs? We only need five sheets! We don’t need 50! You should sell 5-sheet packs, that’s what we need!”), which was not really a shock. What was a shock was when, after her husband walked off to get something, she sidled over to me and in a hushed, (I’m guessing her idea of ‘confidante’ or ‘respectful’?) voice she says, “May I ask you a question?”
Me: “Okay?” (Honestly expecting the: “have you found Jesus?” question since my lesbianism sort of showed earlier when I miiiiiight have gotten a little too effusive about how great purple is.)
Rude Bitch: *moves up closer* “Well…I say this, you see, because my husband is a doctor, and my son was born with the same…” (she does a sort of weird grimace and gestures to her chin) “…condition as you, and I was wondering, have you seen a specialist about it?”
After a moment of stunned silence, I mumbled “Yes?” (Meaning an orthodontist, who admittedly probably did quite a bit to tone down my deformation with some clever teeth-moving. Never seen a plastic surgeon because of lack of money.)
She peered at me over her glasses and replied, “And…?”
Me: *stammering* “And…and I’m fine?” (Honestly getting pissed off now that the shock is over.)
Rude Bitch: “Oh…okay. You’re sure?”
Me: *disgusted half-laughter of WTF-ness* “Yes. I’m sure.”
Rude Bitch: *sympathetic gaze* “Because you know, some people with this condition aren’t aware. It might seem rough, but there is a solution for these problems.”
Me: *through my teeth* “I’m fine. Really.”
Rude Bitch: *brittle smile* “Well…okay.” *drifts away*
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ON A MOTORCYCLE, LADY. It’s bad enough to go up to a total stranger and ask if they’ve bothered to see a professional about their ugly mug, but to then follow up with wanting to know what the doctor said?! That’s none of your fucking business! And her fake-motherly-concern bullshit just pissed me off further. Don’t go trying to pretend like your cattiness is some kind of concern-trolling.
I was seething. Thank gods I got to go home then. (Poor River had to take over helping them.) Jets Boss (formerly known as Cool Boss. I have a few cool bosses, so I have to get more specific with naming them. xD) and River both looked like they were about to rip the woman a new one when I told them what she said. Jets Boss was practically shaking with rage when she came to see if I was okay and told me not to let them get to me. River hugged me and shouted, “YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL!” loud enough for the woman to definitely hear. And honestly I wasn’t upset so much as just really irritated. Yeah, it stings to be insulted, but my looks are something I’m used to. What I’m not used to is people being that obvious of douchebags. Weird glances, kids staring, whatever, that’s normal. But to be so blatantly nosy?
I just wish I’d been able to use one of the kickass come-backs I came up with literally minutes after the event. So many great responses came to mind, but all too late! (And most likely to have gotten me fired. I’m pretty sure Jets Boss would have volunteered to go temporarily deaf, but if the bitch reported me to corporate, that’d be it.) I wish I had stayed completely silent or acted like I had no idea what she was talking about to see what she said to that. That would have been fun.
But what would have been REALLY fun would have been being about to haul out something cool and zen, like: Actually I don’t have any problems, because I think it’s what’s inside a person that counts, and I’m proud to be exactly who I am. (Oh, I wish SO badly that I’d said this. Unfortunately I didn't get my voice back in time.)
Or to just go all raging bitch and shock the hell out of her: Seriously? What makes you think it’s remotely okay to just ask people about their personal and medical lives? That’s none of your goddamned business. I don’t even want to imagine what you’d say to someone with a real disability! Did it ever occur to you that people have feelings and that we’re well-aware of our physical shortcomings and don’t need nosy bitches like you trying to make us feel worse? Were you this rude to your son about his looks, too? Are you proud of butting into strangers’ lives and decisions about their own bodies? Because if I were you I would be beyond ashamed of myself right now for being such a petty-ass shithead.(Ideally including some of Burger Bitch’s more creative swears here and there. Imagine her simpering expression sliding off her face as she gets verbally owned. Just imagine it!)
Or how great would it be, as I walk triumphantly toward the door to go home, to fire off a last zinger to her with a grin and a wave: Thanks for letting me know there’s a solution for my ugly face. Too bad there’s no cure for your shittiness as a human being! (I like to think this would be followed by a car driving by right then, blasting some super awesome rock song out its windows to be my exit anthem.)
Sadly, I said none of these things. I just kind of sputtered and glared at her and she backed off and went to harass another coworker about why we don’t sell 5-sheet packs of paper again. But next time…next time I’ll be ready…
See you guys in 2013!