I did not knowwhat ugly wasuntil I fell in lovewith a manwho looked like meand who loved womenwho did not looklike him. I did not knowwhat ugly wasuntil I foundmy love languagehas different accents;how affirmation sounds so close todestruction. I found uglyin black marketsand ethnic …
While I work during the day as a therapeutic preschool teacher, I often deliver groceries in my spare time. With school coming up, more grocery delivery drivers saturating the market and the second wave of COVID-19 just around the corner, the stores are often packed. I circled the parking lot a couple times before finally finding a very crooked spot far from the entrance. While the car on the left side of the space parked perfectly, the car to the right was horribly crooked. To make matters worse, the car in front of the space had pulled too far in. Desperate to get into the store and start the order, I parked the best I could and moved about my day.
When I had finally finished at the checkout line and made my way back to the parking lot, I stared in wonder at just how empty it was. I didn’t think I was in there for that long, but apparently it had been long enough for everyone else to call it a day and leave.
I made my way towards my car and paused. Attached to the windshield was a little white note flapping in the wind. I used to scroll through hilariously aggravated posts on Tumblr and YouTube in my youth; I knew exactly what it was before even reading it. I’m not sure what possessed me to pick it up and actually read it, so I had nobody but myself to be upset at when I greeted my spirit with words like, “Learn how to f*****g park. You b***h a** m*****f****r. :)”
Even though I knew what it was going to say before I plucked it from my car, I still felt heat rise into my chest and throat. I immediately thought of any petty thing I could do to make my point clear. Call the company that was printed on the notepad paper and demand to speak to whoever wrote such a disgraceful note and violently explain to them why my car looked like it was parked by a blindfolded, one legged, starving billygoat?
But then again, what good what it do me?
I knew what had happened. I knew how my car looked with and without the presence of multiple vehicles who also looked as if they were parked by a herd of billygoats. What was explaining going to actually do? What would calling a whole company to chew out a single employee do? I’d be just as petty as the guy who wrote the note in the first place!
What truly mattered was that I got my order done on time, I did my job, nobody was hurt and I did my best in every aspect of that adventure. Forcing someone else to learn about my perspective wasn’t going to make my life or theirs any easier. Someone either wants to understand or they don’t. And if they feel the latter, it simply isn’t my responsibility.
Nor is it yours.
Ever since I worked as a bill collector for an auto finance company, I’ve been extremely passionate about my finances. Coupled with my mother’s teachings of the importance of a savings account, I believed I had all the knowledge I needed. The concept of stashing …