How to feck with people

There comes a time in everyone’s life when you have a certain need to yank people’s chain and generally get the upper hand in the situation. The average uptight American usually hands the reins over to the aggressor, letting them steer how you feel and where things go from there. Sure, you might get mad, stamp your feet, say some naughty words, and add a little Miracle Grow to your peptic ulcer as you declare “Well, at least I tried”, but to borrow a line from Morgan Freeman, “I would have succeeded.” Note – it’s Friday afternoon, and I don’t care that I’m not making sense.

When I worked as a Loss Control Associate (corporate lingo BS for retail store security) for Kmart, we frequently apprehended people and dragged them back to our office so we could fill out the paperwork and wait for the real police to take them off our hands. Many times they knew they were basically screwed – there was no way they were getting out of that office except in police custody, and we had witnesses, physical evidence, and videotape of their guilt. The truly penitent usually sat quietly and contemplated their fate, whereas recidivists either broke down and cried (and I’m talking grown men here) or decided to get a little satisfaction by giving us crap. Most security guys responded as you would expect, with what I call the “Oh, yeah?!” response and slung the epithets right back. Tempers would rise, both people would shout at each other, and the good guy would have his entire day ruined by a bunch of words spoken from someone for whom we had no respect in the first place. Sometimes the perps would keep the arguments going until the cops arrived (I’ve never seen a mouth brake from 60 to 0 so fast), but sometimes after rattling the security guy’s cage they would sit back with a satisfied little smile. They may have been going to jail, but for a moment they had control of the situation.

My method of handling them? I treated everyone with respect and called them Sir or Ma’am as appropriate. And I’m not talking that sarcastic Sir when the person means to relay their contempt for you while using technically polite language. I used Sir with all the sincerity I could fake, and even threw in a polite smile as I worked. The criminals I pitied, guys and gals who seemed basically okay but got desperate and made a mistake, seemed thankful for the modicum of dignity I allowed them; the others lost their mother feckin’ minds. It was fun messing with them like that. Some went totally bonkers, leaping out of their seats, shouting, even having to be physically restrained, which was also fun. This is not rocket surgery, people. One of the basic rules of combat is DON’T DO WHAT THE ENEMY WANTS YOU TO DO.

As another example of this tactic, some of you may remember when I submitted my blog for review by the bitches (their label, not mine) at I Talk Too Much. I knew they wouldn’t like the blog if for no other reason than they have a very strict rule about not using light-colored fonts on a dark background. I wasn’t looking for feedback anyway – criticism from strangers is basically useless when I don’t know their standards and tastes. My reasons for wanting their review were twofold – I wanted to draw more attention to my blog without making first contact with others (I’ve learned to do that as little as possible, my personality being what it is) and I wanted to play with the bitches. To rip a line from Marv, “I love bitchy women. You can do whatever you want to them and you don’t feel bad.” I’d never have a true bitch for a serious girlfriend, but it’s fun to wine them, dine them, bend them over the hood of my car, then drop them off in the bad part of town and shout “Free crack!” as I speed away.

Anyway, my review came through and it wasn’t as bad as I expected. Merciless Minx hated the template (natch) but she actually said some nice things about my writing, and who the hell wanted that? I could have dropped a comment on the site saying she had disappointed me and was a total wimp and now I’m mad because she’s such a fecking rotten person and blah blah blah, but then she would have sat back with a satisfied smile of her own knowing that she got my goat (your goat joke here). So instead I left a little joke saying she wasn’t very mean (I think I included the :p emoticon to make sure she knew it was a joke), then thanked her for her time.

I won’t do the blow by blow (go read the comments if you care), but the end result was that she really outdid herself by getting mad and ripping me a new one (not once, but twice) and saying something about how she didn’t respond on command, which is exactly what she did (although if I told her that, then my reverse psychology trick would have been exposed and the fun would have abruptly ended). Then her friends joined in the attack, and wow – that was some good bitchcraft. End result – a lot more traffic and some new friends over here. To my new blogpals, let me say YOU PEOPLE ARE EATING UP MY FECKING BANDWIDTH! And yet I love you anyway. Especially if you’re Asian.

Side note about the template – I can understand (but not agree with) your opinion if you say blogs should always have a light background with dark text, but I’m really at a loss to answer all the comments that said stuff like “OMFG! It’s like 3D. It’s fecking up my eyes.” The only suggestions I can offer are 1) eat more carrots, and 2) next time, read the blog first and THEN drop the acid.

One last note, although this slightly off the topic. Every time the Atlanta mayoral race is drawing close to voting time, I see signs posted in downtown neighborhoods that read “Vote the Black Slate”, which means vote for all black candidates. Yes, I know that’s blatantly racist and yes, I know there’d be hell to pay if somebody posted signs saying “Vote the White Slate” (you’ll know it’s me if you see “Vote the Yellow Slate”), but I just can’t raise any ire for several reasons. First off, do they actually think a few signs tacked to telephone poles along with offers to buy your house FAST for CASH are going to sway the election? Second, do they think any serious voter will be convinced by that message? Third, do they think all black politicians are the same and will work to benefit the black community as opposed to taking payola? Most importantly, has anyone ever seen a mayoral candidate (one that stood Frosty’s chance in Hell of actually getting elected) that wasn’t black? You can’t not vote for a black candidate, at least for the head position. I know, somehow a few white people slipped past the signs and made it to the city council, but I still can’t get mad at something I view as silly and pointless, even if it is racist. Would the Jews have cared whether or not Hitler hated them if he had stayed at home and watched TV?

The kicker is, these don’t look like homemade signs, at least not crayon on cardboard. Somebody actually paid to have these printed, then took the time to tack them to telephone poles around the downtown residential areas. If I really wanted to feck with them, I could underscore the pointlessness of their endeavor by posting some signs with an even more useless message like “Walk on Your Feet” or “Continue to Breathe Air”.

In summation, my basic attitude is to always be nice to people (unless it’s time to get – YAY – violent). If they like me, they’ll appreciate the kindness and respond in turn and, therefore, I win. If they don’t like me it pisses them off and generally ruins their day and, therefore, I win.

In closing – feck off.