Always When it's the Least Offensive

Cynthia: Ok.. Now you update.
TJ: Oh I am, and it's going to be closely tied with this morning...well..afternoon...
Cynthia: Don't say anything mean about her, please?

Always....always....ALWAYS in my life when I get in trouble for my mouth it comes at a time that it's the least offensive. What's up with that? It really boggles my mind. I say some messed up junk, but when people who take themselves too seriously decided it's their day to get fed up with my non-sense, truth be told- that's what it is, it comes at a time when I'm fairly nice.

Examples are filling my head like it's high tide, and stink just as badly. We'll go back to a time when my friend, Heather- a Culinary Assistant at the Olive Garden, and I were going back and forth with our usual banter one fine morning in the Kitchen. It's the kind of carrying-on when no one can tell if we are serious or not, but we both know we are joking.

Well, the manager on duty didn't like it much. This particular manager and I aren't the closest of friends, in fact he hated me. I rang the bell on him so many times that it was stupid. He deserved it. Whatever. Anyway, He hears what's going on, because I do my best bullshitting on our loudspeaker that's used to call soups up from the back of the house, and flies out of the office. He comes into the Alley, the main server area, and begins to scream at me.

Now, for those of you who've screamed at me, mainly I'm talking to my parents, but I'm sure there are a few others, you know my reaction. I put on my most cavalier face and mock you with my eyes so I can see how far you are willing to go with this. I put that TJ smile on, grabbed a drink (while he was berating me) and enjoyed the show just like the other 15 servers that were standing around acting like they weren't watching. The entire time in my head I was thinking "Wow. This guy's toast." I knew Olive Garden Management philosophy better than most OG managers because I was up the ass of my General Manager. I know you can't scream at an employee, using foul language and name calling. In the end, I got my apology. No harm, no foul.

Fast forward to this morning. No wait- last night. For those of you that don't know Facebook it has the feature called "status update." It's the same thing as Twitter, which are the little updates at the top of my page. You can say dumb stuff like "TJ is taking a poop and on his laptop at the same time" or "Cynthia is sick of being sick," which was her status for last night. Another fine feature that Facebook has is that you can comment on these status updates. So, my late night reply was "Then go to the effin doctor....a-hole." Verbatim.

I think we all can agree I've said a lot worse- probably to members of clergy. But for some reason I decided to tone down my crass, classless, shameless vocabulary and go with an edited version. And this is where history repeats itself. I'm met with an email notification this morning that there was a response to my comment:

"You have no idea how I hate seeing this on my wall...I would never write such a nasty comment... wish I could remove this from my wall! If you know how I can...please tell me! I would hate to think my friends and family would assume I find this acceptable! Morality and class...never goes out of style!"

Are you fucking kidding me?!? Again?!? I read this with one eye and didn't really think much of it. But, as time went on and I woke up a bit, it really began to ruin my bowl of Frosted Flakes. I was preparing for war. I wanted to say something back, but my brain was moving to fast for my fingers. Plus, I was busy eating a tupperware size bowl of Frosted Flakes.

Cynthia told me that it was a lady that considers herself close enough to Cynthia to care for her like a daughter and was just offended that someone would speak to her like that. After contemplating my juvenile retaliation, I decided to just respect my elders and delete my comment. I offered no apologies because Cynthia and I regularly speak disrespectfully to each other. I think she might have called me a "cunt" twice today.

I used to just think that I'd have hit the tipping point with adults when I get bitched at for something far less offensive than my normal banter. But, this woman didn't know me. She hasn't had to put up with my bullshit like my Mother, Teachers, or employers. I've gone on rampages back at Pancho's sending asshole out of the room crying, ready to walk out and quite their job. But anytime I've gotten in trouble, it's been for something that was quite small.

An enigma...to say the least. Maybe when people see me at my best, or worst, they think to themselves "Wow this dude is quick. There'd be no stopping this man's quick wit, so why even try?" Then try to take me down when I seem tired or week. I guess it can be called "Social Natural Selection." They should know better- I'm just playing sick ... and that I take down prey bigger than me for breakfast.

She's probably sitting on her bed, rocking back and forth, and obsessively petting her cat for all I care.