WARNING: The following contains some quite "colourful" language. If you are easily offended by this please do not read on. I'll repeat that, if you are easily offended, please do not read on. OK?
I'm a cunt. Yes! You read that correctly. I am a cunt. Now, before you ask me if I am referring to the woman's genitals, no I'm not. I'm referring to the name that we call each other. I know that in America that the mere utterance of it can start a war while in the United Kingdom, in some cases it is a term of endearment.
Like most words, in my opinion anyway, it is not necessarily the word itself. A word is just a jumble letters put together in a pattern. What makes the word offensive or whatever is how it is used. How the tone of your voice is used. What the expression on your face is. Your body language.
"What does this have to do with anything?" I hear you ask.
This morning I went to the convenience store on the way to the place where I am writing this post. As usually I bought a couple of bottles of water and went to the register.
For some of you, who haven't been to Japan, let me explain the process at a Japanese convenience store. You take your things to the counter, the shop assistant says something that is loosely translated as "Welcome." They they ring up the products, tell you the price and put the products in a plastic bag. Sounds like most places in the world right? Except for the plastic bag bit. I know that some countries, for example, New Zealand, ban the use of single use plastic bags.
Anyway, the guy behind the counter just looked at me and said nothing. Zilch, not a sausage, bugger all as a social studies teacher of mine used to say.
Admittedly, the service in Japan can be rather robotic and annoying at times, but when you don't get it, it can seem a bit off-putting. For example, this morning I went to the register and the guy looked at me and said nothing. He then rang up the stuff and said nothing. I looked at the register and then looked at him and asked if he wasn't going to say the price. I said that in Japanese. He said the price in English.
All of this sounds to you, probably like a nothing incident but it pissed me off for a few minutes. Why does this guy look at me and decide that the normal service is above me because of the colour of my skin?
Now, let me just say that the guy was not a Japanese national but my point is why don't I get the same service?
Anyway, a few minutes after I thought about it and I thought that I was an almighty cunt. It was 9 o'clock in the morning. The guy may have been working all night. Also, he had been a little rude. It isn't the end of the world. What I should have done was just smile and walk out. No harm, no foul.
I've found that I have been doing this kind of thing a lot recently and it is not really good. My friend has a scientific name for it:
Passive Aggressive Prick
I think the message in this story is to just let it go. What is that saying? Is it going to matter in 5 years? I mean today's "happening" didn't matter 5 minutes later let alone 5 years later but here I am blogging about it.
I've been trying something the last couple of weeks, when I see something in particular it is like a trigger to remind myself to be happy, to just smile. I think some people think I might be a bit weird as I suddenly break into a big smile as I walk down the street but that is their problem not mine. I'm just trying to make myself feel good.
I'm not going to tell you what the trigger is but if you want to do the same, you create your now trigger. It might feel a little strange for a bit but once you get used to it, it is actually a good way to overcome things that might be stressing you out. Just smile and fill your head with uplifting images. That's all there is to it.
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