I had to contact a customer today and every time I would ask her a question she would respond with “yes sir” and as a matter of fact, she referred to me as sir several times throughout the conversation. I find this humorous. Especially given the story I’m about to tell.
A long, long time ago in a shitty junior high on the west side of Colorado Springs, well the school wasn’t that bad but you know how it was. Anyway, there was this one substitute teacher, Mr. Weinberg that was apparently District 11’s go to sub as it seemed I had him for pretty much any class, at any grade level. I had him in junior high AND high school, with his plaid short sleeved shirts, glasses low on his nose and polyester pants. I don’t remember much about his teaching style or anything that he might have actually taught me but I DO remember one thing in particular. He always, and I mean ALWAYS called me “young man” in class. For 6 fucking years. Keep in mind he didn’t do this to the other girls in these classes, just me. Maybe it was because I had short hair but I know it wasn’t because I had a boyish figure considering I was a C cup at 12 years of age.
I don’t know the why and ultimately it doesn’t matter. I’d always get so upset when he’d call me young man. It just added to what was already miserable experience and I’d get all riled up and start hating on everything but especially myself. It’s always so easy to hate on yourself, isn’t it?
Yeah thing is, nowadays I just don’t give a shit anymore. Call me young man, call me old man, call me fat, call me ugly. I don’t care. If it makes you feel better, then fucking go for it.
And I said it once before but it bears repeating, now –
I’m fucking awesome and I know it and my opinion is the only one that matters.