I’m kind of a good girl. No really, I am. I generally follow the rules, as I’ve mentioned before in my previous post, “The Parking Attendant.” I think it’s because I had a very strict upbringing. Similar to that of an army recruit. My parents were borderline drill sergeants, complete with ass beatings for those who didn’t obey. And when I say “those” I don’t just mean my brother and I.
I remember babysitting my cousin once and he was being a little PITA (pain in the ass). I was like 13-years-old. My cousin wouldn’t listen to me. He kept running around the house refusing to go to bed. I started crying. He still wouldn’t listen. I threatened to call his parents. He yelled at me. I cried more. I called my parents. My stepdad came over and gave my cousin a spanking. I swear to God. I don’t know if my aunt was mad, I don’t remember. I just remember being horrified when my aunt and uncle came home, and I had to tell them to call my stepdad right away. I’m pretty sure I never babysat again.
But, now I went off on a tangent. And I sound like a hypocrite. And I hate hypocrites. Am I a rule follower or a rebellious tease? I guess I’m a little bit of both. I tend to have a rebellious nature though I do usually obey things like – I don’t know – the Law?!? I’m not generally running around robbing banks or shooting people, though I would like to do both. That said I don’t like the word “obey” as in “a woman should obey her man.” I don’t think so. Or “a good little girl should obey her parents.” Maybe my issue is more with authority. That and the fact that I just don’t like hearing the word “no.”
I learned in outpatient therapy that people who freak out when they are told “no” have what is referred to as “King Baby Syndrome.” And yes, I absolutely suffer from King Baby Syndrome. I am the quintessential King Baby. And no, not the queen, but the mother-fucking-King Baby!
When I hear the word “no” I get pissed off. Like a two-year-old I’ll throw a temper tantrum – throwing myself on the floor in a pitiful rage. Don’t tell me “no!” Don’t tell me I can’t do something. I’m a grown woman! I can do whatever I want!
“I’ll do what I want!” Sound familiar? Yeah, my husband compares me to Eric Cartman from Southpark. At first I was mad. Don’t compare me to a fat little wiener cartoon character! You must be joking! Besides which I’m much more Jessica Rabbit, than a pudgy 8-year-old. But, then I started laughing. I started to laugh my fucking ass off. Hell yeah, I’m Cartman. Hell yeah, I’m the King Baby! Bring it! “I’ll Do What I WANT!”
Where am I going with is? I honestly don’t remember. When I started this I wanted to talk about my distaste for the police. It’s not that I hate police officers, I mean, they protect law abiding citizens from all the crazy lunatics out there. They are there to “protect and serve.” I think police officers are very brave women and men that we are lucky to have in our communities.
My real issue with the police is that they are hypocrites. And they have authority over me. Two things that I hate the most in this world….God help the officer who pulls me over.
I haven’t been pulled over in a while, and I do speed. I speed quite often. I also didn’t wear a seatbelt up until about a month ago. I decided I better start buckling up because A.) The State of Illinois raised our seatbelt fines (WTF!) and B.) Now that I am a mother I really should be more responsible. So, I started buckling up. Then I started to drive just a little slower. Well, most of the time. No, that’s actually a lie. I don’t drive any slower. I try to keep it at 10 mph over – but never in a residential. I refuse to be the a-hole flying down a residential street at 50 mph where children and dogs are out in their front yards playing. Come on, people, I have some class.
My beef with the police is that they actually get to speed. Without getting in trouble. It’s no fair! If I speed I get pulled over and get a speeding ticket (and a seatbelt ticket up until one month ago). But, if Mrs. Police Officer speeds, she gets a warning. WTF is that bogus crap?
I love it when a police officer puts their siren and lights on and blows through a red light only to turn their siren and lights off 2-seconds after they speed through the intersection. Now WTF is that? Why do police officers do that?
My friend is married to a cop. I like him. He’s a good guy. No, he’s a great guy. I’m not saying all cops are bad. Just like all Italians are not in the mafia. There is no mafia.
I’m just sayin’.