As you may know, I have the ultimate pleasure of working on Miami Beach. No, that last sentence wasn't laced with sarcasm. And no, the second sentence wasn't a total lie.
Today, I needed to visit Mr. ATM and then grab a snack.
Roboco came along for the trip and as we were coming out of the location with the ATM, one of the Duck Tour buses came by. It is tourist season so the bus was loaded down, as was the sidewalk corner where we were standing waiting to cross.
This snippet of tour guide-y-ness came floating through the air: "This is Lincoln Road. Lincoln Road is one of the BEST open-air malls in the US."
To which my response was: Who's he telling that lie to?
Originally meant as an aside to Roboco, others on the sidewalk got a good giggle out of it too.
But wait! There's more!!
There are some guys, hood rats, for lack of a better term, that are always standing on a certain corner trying to get people to buy stuff in the name of Wu. I like Wu and all, I just get tired of these guys. Why? Because EVERY. TIME. I. WALK. BY. THEY. FEEL. THAT. THEY. HAVE. TO. TALK. TO. ME!
Only me. Every time. And always ignoring whomever I am with, I am supposing, because of everyone else's lack of black.
Happy holidays and all, but I'm not in the mood to hear what you have to say today. So, with my head down and walking fast and trying so hard to NOT make eye contact, I push forward. Doesn't matter. I think it goes a little something like this:
Wu-dude: Hey ma, you heard of Wu-Tang?
Me: <sigh> Yeah. <keep walking>
Wu-dude: Let me tell you about…
Wu-dude: But come on…
Wu-dude: But I'm in a magazine, I just wanna show you…
Roboco: <uncontrollable giggles>
Seriously, I don't know why they keep trying. Nothing against Wu, but they have enough money to support me for life. They don't need my support.
And besides, Lovey does enough supporting for both of us.
Another day on the beach. Brought to you by the words "no", "wu", and "bretzel".
Listo. I just don't know what for.
I should probably be better at this by now. I am 33 after all. All grown up, with grown up thoughts and feelings. MOST of the time. I guess I've just never gotten used to it or I try my best to avoid situations in where rejection may come into play.
Growing up, I lived in a fairly tight-knit community. Our road was just about a mile long and of all the families, I'd say at least 80% had children in the same age range. So, let's see. There was me, my brother, Michelle, Shawn, Lori, Amy, another Shawn, occasionally a Justin and a Tisha, Matt, Mikey and Larry. As we got older and ventured off of our road and onto the next, we picked up Scott, Larry and Donna. Others came and went, but that first group were the main players. Now, I'm not a girly girl. I never have been. (My mom was kinda bummed about it but my dad dug it.) I didn't have Barbies, didn't want them. I had a Cabbage Patch Kid – Addi Trista – but only because it was a present from an out-of-town relative. I wanted to run and jump and rough-house. With the boys. And they let me. Could have been out of fear of my father, but I like to think it was because they were just amazed that a GIRL wanted to do these things.
Don't get me wrong. I tried. I tried playing Barbies but I just found it to be ridiculous. Sitting inside the house on a perfectly good day making up stories about a plastic bitch who's about as real as Santa just wasn't my thing. And yes, I knew Santa wasn't real from a very young age and I spoiled it for both my brother and cousin. But me and Barbie, we never saw eye to eye. I won't even say it was because Barbie didn't have any black friends because I was a little older before I realized that THAT would/could be an issue.
Out of the few girls, I mostly hung out with Michelle and Lori. It was an odd situation. I was in the same grade as Amy, but closer in age to Michelle and Lori. So here's the thing. I could hang out with any one of them on their own and we'd get along fine but as soon as a thrid person came into the mix it was see you later me. It was like I played second fiddle to everyone on the block. For a while, the three of us hung out. We had a "club". Until one day, Michelle and Lori decided that I wasn't cool enough to be in the club any more and they told me I was out. Mmmm, mmm. Rejection tastes good. Like road kill.
Let's jump ahead to school years. I went to a private school through 4th grade. Not because we were rich or the public school wasn't good, but because I have a late birthday and public school wouldn't take me. The transition to public school wasn't an easy one. The only person I knew was Amy and she assimilated a lot better than I did. Some of the kids were friendly, like the trio that approached me as soon as I got there exclaiming that my birthday was close to theirs. Some were not, like the boy who ran up behind me and said "We don't like little black girls."
As a sidebar, that same boy ended up being one of my very good friends by the end of high school. What up JR?
The school year went on and people made friends, but not me. Mmmm, mmmm. Rejection tastes better with a side of school mashed potatoes.
High school wasn't much different. I had a lot of acquaintances, but very few friends. I had crushes, but never a boyfriend. Granted, I was two years younger than everyone else, but no one knew that unless I told them. Even my acquaintances were mostly guys. Which, of course, didn't go over well with the girls. Mmmmm, mmmmm. Say it with me.
I found out pretty quickly that I didn't enjoy the whole rejection scenario at all. So what did I do? I started to just cut everyone off. I figured I didn't need them. Small town America go fuck yourself. I left. I went to NY. (Rejection in NY tastes like pizza.) But I came back.
I started re-acquainting myself with people. I made a friend. Yes A friend. She had friends and they let me, the moth, flit about the outside of their butterfly garden. Through them I met a guy. He was nice. We hit it off. But then one of their friends thought he would be better off with someone else, so they told him nasty and untrue things about me. FUCK YOU MIKE GRIMES! Sorry, that slipped. But it was all for the best because small town America just wasn't for me. I left again.
By this time, I just stopped putting myself in positions where I thought I might get rejected. Rejection is hell on my ego. It's hell on me in general. I never got used to it and I never understood why and I certainly never liked it. It's probably the main reason that I don't have female friends, or any for that matter outside of work (that are within an hour drive). I've never been able to fit in. I'm okay with it now. I have Kiddo and I have Lovey and that's good enough for me at the moment even though they drive me nuts at times.
Lovey's been the best at supporting me in the latest rejection. Technically, it's not a rejection yet, but I'm not holding my breath on any good news. A couple weeks ago, I was perusing the classifieds, as I always do job or not, and I saw something interesting. I figured what could it hurt to send my info. I kinda forgot about it and when they called me it took a minute to figure out who they were and why they were calling. Well, we hit it off over the phone and we traded emails and I went to not one, but two interviews and was told when I asked how many other people were in the pool for the position that "I was on top of my game and I shouldn't worry about that. Read between the lines. :-)". Okay, maybe what I read between those lines wasn't what they meant. But, when you've met an entire team and everyone liked you and then you hear something like that, what would you think?
So here's where it's technically not a rejection yet. I was assured that all candidates would be notified one way or the other when a decision was made. I got the impression that they wanted to get this done sooner rather than later. But today, I saw an ad posted for the exact same position. For me, that rejection tastes like bad mangos because now, even if they call and say I've got it, I feel like they didn't really want me but no one else applied and we need a warm body. I don't think I'd be able to accept if they did offer it now because I don't play second fiddle. Or third. Or fourth. Am I wrong? Am I crazy? Any thoughts?