two people i dislike
1. George W. Bush
This is a man who, according to NPR rumor, took money that was supposed to go toward renovating the pre-Katrina levees and put it toward the war in Iraq. Now both Iraq and New Orleans are full of looting, violence and unsanitary water. But at least George W. is on hand to make useful and comforting statements along the lines of, “We didn’t think the levees would break. But then they broke,” and “People want to go back to their homes, but they can’t go back to their homes now.”
2. My neighbor, whom I will call George W. Bush At Age 26
He happens to be a loud, gross, frat boy-esque grad student, and I suppose that’s his right. As I was leaving for work this morning, George W. Bush At Age 26 asked, “Will you drop me off closer to campus?” I said, “No, sorry, I’m not going that direction.” He just nodded like, Okay, bitch. I felt bad for a few minutes, as is my tendency. Then I thought about the time he and his friends got drunk and peed on our doorstep and I felt less bad. It’s the sense of entitlement that bugs me more than anything, the way he thinks, I can totally pee on someone’s house and then ask her to schlep me around. I also thought about how I had to write a scene in my novel where a jerky guy assaults a woman, and I based it on him, and wondered if anyone would buy such a stereotypical character. The real reason I didn’t give him a ride, though, is I just can’t imagine what we would talk about for eight agonizing minutes.
Sometimes, when people learn what neighborhood I live in, they get this certain micro-expression on their faces, which I know has to do with the high percentage of people of color and poor people who live there. Let me just say that the many people who go through our recycling bins make way better neighbors than George W. Bush at any age.
This is a man who, according to NPR rumor, took money that was supposed to go toward renovating the pre-Katrina levees and put it toward the war in Iraq. Now both Iraq and New Orleans are full of looting, violence and unsanitary water. But at least George W. is on hand to make useful and comforting statements along the lines of, “We didn’t think the levees would break. But then they broke,” and “People want to go back to their homes, but they can’t go back to their homes now.”
2. My neighbor, whom I will call George W. Bush At Age 26
He happens to be a loud, gross, frat boy-esque grad student, and I suppose that’s his right. As I was leaving for work this morning, George W. Bush At Age 26 asked, “Will you drop me off closer to campus?” I said, “No, sorry, I’m not going that direction.” He just nodded like, Okay, bitch. I felt bad for a few minutes, as is my tendency. Then I thought about the time he and his friends got drunk and peed on our doorstep and I felt less bad. It’s the sense of entitlement that bugs me more than anything, the way he thinks, I can totally pee on someone’s house and then ask her to schlep me around. I also thought about how I had to write a scene in my novel where a jerky guy assaults a woman, and I based it on him, and wondered if anyone would buy such a stereotypical character. The real reason I didn’t give him a ride, though, is I just can’t imagine what we would talk about for eight agonizing minutes.
Sometimes, when people learn what neighborhood I live in, they get this certain micro-expression on their faces, which I know has to do with the high percentage of people of color and poor people who live there. Let me just say that the many people who go through our recycling bins make way better neighbors than George W. Bush at any age.
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