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A short little sighting... and I have to post it here because I agreed not to make a scene.
(Background: I'm known for having a cannon of a temper and a low tolerance for bullshit, which makes for a nasty combination should a spewer of bullshit ever find that cannon aimed at him or her.)
A few weeks ago, my mother happened to hear me talking about the shop I take my clothes to after I lost a bunch of weight and needed to have all of my good shirts taken in. She asked me about it, because she's in need of a new seamstress. This surprised me because she takes all her clothes to be altered at a local dry cleaner's, and has for years.
She doesn't want to anymore after what happened.
What happened?
Well, a new girl there at that cleaner's pointed out, in the course of measuring some dresses my mother needed altered, that my mother is a freak because one of her legs is longer than the other.
A freak.
That bitch called my mother a freak.
And yes, we know about the discrepancy, thank you. It's what has caused, over the course of my mother's life, that twist in her spine -- the one that has in turn caused nerve damage and which is causing, again in turn, my mother to slowly lose her ability to walk. She might need a brace soon, but we all figure she'll be dead before she's totally chairbound and it can't come a moment too soon. My mother, you see, hasn't had much of a will to live for quite some time now, what with the diabetes making her go blind and all. And then there was that whole thing with her losing the hearing in one ear, which also destroyed her sense of balance as well.
And you called her a freak.
Note how my fists are clenching and unclenching.
But I said I would not make a scene, that I would not call the dry cleaner's and raise holy fucking hell, nor would I appear in person to do the same, and I have not. My mother would just prefer to take her business quietly elsewhere.
And I am stopping this narrative at this point before I get any more upset. It took me weeks to post this and writing it out has upset me again.
(Background: I'm known for having a cannon of a temper and a low tolerance for bullshit, which makes for a nasty combination should a spewer of bullshit ever find that cannon aimed at him or her.)
A few weeks ago, my mother happened to hear me talking about the shop I take my clothes to after I lost a bunch of weight and needed to have all of my good shirts taken in. She asked me about it, because she's in need of a new seamstress. This surprised me because she takes all her clothes to be altered at a local dry cleaner's, and has for years.
She doesn't want to anymore after what happened.
What happened?
Well, a new girl there at that cleaner's pointed out, in the course of measuring some dresses my mother needed altered, that my mother is a freak because one of her legs is longer than the other.
A freak.
That bitch called my mother a freak.
And yes, we know about the discrepancy, thank you. It's what has caused, over the course of my mother's life, that twist in her spine -- the one that has in turn caused nerve damage and which is causing, again in turn, my mother to slowly lose her ability to walk. She might need a brace soon, but we all figure she'll be dead before she's totally chairbound and it can't come a moment too soon. My mother, you see, hasn't had much of a will to live for quite some time now, what with the diabetes making her go blind and all. And then there was that whole thing with her losing the hearing in one ear, which also destroyed her sense of balance as well.
And you called her a freak.
Note how my fists are clenching and unclenching.
But I said I would not make a scene, that I would not call the dry cleaner's and raise holy fucking hell, nor would I appear in person to do the same, and I have not. My mother would just prefer to take her business quietly elsewhere.
And I am stopping this narrative at this point before I get any more upset. It took me weeks to post this and writing it out has upset me again.
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