June 14, 2007
Where Has All the Fuck Gone?
Yesterday evening, I was pumping gas into my car, and a couple of teenaged girls were trying to figure out how to use Mommy's gas card to put gas in Mommy's minivan. And because they were obviously much more mature and sophisticated than most teenaged girls, every other word was Fuck. Because, you know, that's what grown-ups say.
And to further prove their intelligence and coolness, one of them lit up a cigarette. At the gas station. While pumping gas.
But that's neither here nor there. The point is, I suddenly realized how little Fuck there has been in my life lately. What with Nicki abandoning me, Heather was pretty much my sole daily link to Fuck. And since I often forget to sign onto AOL I.M., I probably hear Fuck less than half a dozen times a day. Sometimes not at all. It's very distressing!
My love affair with Fuck started, predictably, when I began waiting tables. In order to counteract all that fake smiling and niceness that the wait staff must show to the customers, they swear like... well, like wait staff when they're not around the guests.
Working at LePeep was especially hilarious. It was me, the gay host, the token "lifer" waitress, and half a dozen cheerleaders from the local high school. They were all about 5'2", their weight still in the double-digits, and cute as Care Bears. Precious!
Oh, did those gals get an education. They thought they had learned all about Fuck in the smoking bathroom by the performing arts wing. But those girls didn't know Fuck.
After a few weeks, The Lifer and I had it so the Mexican cooks would cross themselves anytime the cheerleaders were around. But it sounded so cute when they said it!
Ironically, I married a man who is barely on a first name basis with Fuck. And now that I'm so far removed from Heather, Nicki, Chick Boss, Assistant Chick Boss and Hott Boss, there's just so little Fuck for me to enjoy.
I miss it. I really do. I find myself "accidentally" bumping into people at Walgreens, just hoping one of them will tell me to Fuck Off.
There's only one clear solution really. Mom, you're going to have to start using The F Word more.
Comments
Thats fucking deep!!!!!!!!!!!!! Garrance
Posted by: garrance at June 14, 2007 09:04 PM
Garrance, you are just such a fucking tool sometimes.
Posted by: Kelly Garrett at June 15, 2007 12:47 AM
You were so asking for this...
I'll be your new Fuck-buddy! ;)
Posted by: Mickey at June 15, 2007 10:18 AM
What the Fuck?! Wenchie If you weren't so Fucking clever I'd never read this fucking blog. FUck you, keep your access to the internet working bitch otherwise I have fucking withdrawll (how the fuck do you spell withdrawll?? anyway?).
Snippy-fucking-Bitch
Posted by: Snippy Bitch at June 15, 2007 11:46 AM
My dear, departed religous best friend had a theory that we all have a fuck bucket in our heads. We go about our day, being civilized and whatnot, not saying fuck while at work or with our grannies. All those fucks that you should have said go into the bucket. This is good. But, the fuck bucket can reach it's maximum, and then you're shit out of luck. When the bucket overflows, ALL of the fucks it was holding come spilling out and get spewed into the universe with a vengence. I always pray that my fuck bucket never overflows when I'm yelling at one of the kids....or my mom.
Posted by: elle at June 15, 2007 04:35 PM
Hey, I used to work at LePeep! Now that I think of it, I did swear more often when I worked there than I do now. I never put 2 and 2 together before. I'll make sure to throw some Fuck your way if you show up at Nicki & Vicki's block party. I feel a little dirty every time I type a swear word - that just means I need to do it more often.
Posted by: Shannon at June 20, 2007 02:54 PM