I hate it when people [90% of the time they're men] tell me to "smile". I know I've had this conversation with someone, but I feel the need to reinforce how much I really, seriously hate it.
A) Who the hell are you?
B) Don't tell me what to do.
C) How do you know that what's going on in my head or life right now is worth smiling about? Maybe I'm thinking about a parking ticket, or the death of a family member... or how BAD you SMELL. Maybe my cat has rabies.
D) People who walk around smiling all the time for no reason either look mildly disabled, or like they're WAY over-medicated. Ever read the bumper sticker that says, "I smile because I have no idea what's going on."? No one wants to be that guy.
I am not a particularly morose person. While I'm prone to moodiness and sarcasm, I'm no Debbie Downer... and generally speaking, I try to be pretty upbeat. At least, in public. In fact, when I used to waitress, I was often asked how I managed to be so perky or energetic all the time. [I was, not to toot my own horn, a kickass waitress.] So, new rule: if you ever tell me to smile when I'm not, I'm going to rip your heart out and feed it to you. Okay?
[insert big, toothy smile here]
1 comment:
i love your blogs! especially this one! i'm so with you on it! and, you were a kick ass waitress... but i saw that after this summer when i'm done at the pub we agree to never let the other work there ever again! i loved having you over the other day... let's do drinks soon!
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