Friday, June 7, 2013

I'M AN A**HOLE

My friends and I have been talking a lot about being judgmental lately. One of my friends was accused of being judgmental by her therapist and you would think he told her she had Rickets. She can't stand the moniker and asks me every five minutes, "Was that judmental?"
She's asking me because, apparently, I would know. I have been anointed with, and proudly accept, the label of being judgmental among my group of friends.

I'm fine with it because I don't really think I'm judgmental. I think I'm observant. To me, judgmental is when you make assumptions without enough information. I don't do that. I watch, listen, evaluate, then size someone up. (And I'm usually right). If that's judgmental, then that's me. The reality of it is, you're probably thinking it. I'm just owning that I'm thinking it. I prefer the latter. 

See, I usually get called judgmental when I'm speaking the truth. Not like, "You are a stinky bitch." But more like, "I don't feel sorry for him when he can't afford his rent. He chose to be a musician and walked away from a full ride scholarship, even though his single mom was broke." 

Is that judgmental?

If you answered yes, you are a stinky bitch.

If you answered no, you are my people.

Look, those of us who tell it like we see it (when appropriate - not like calling someone ugly at their funeral), are a rare breed around these parts. Most Minnesotans will politely kiss your butt and hate your guts at the same time. That's lying. It's not polite. It's sinister, actually. And you're the same people who will let us walk around with spinach in our teeth and toilet paper on our shoe, because YOU don't want to be the one to give US bad news, even though that news would be helpful. You are protecting yourself, instead of assisting others. Which is mean...and, yes, the fact that I called you mean is judgmental. Deal with it.

YOU: Fine.

MEFine!

YOU: FINE!

ME : FINE!!!! (You have spinach in your teeth. You're welcome.)

You know I'm right. And you'd admit it if you were brave enough to be honest. But it's easier just to sit there and quietly think what I'm thinking so no one can label you like they label me.

That's cool. I'll take the heat. And I'll hold my head high.

Until I'm wrong.

Like I was the other day...

I was walking along the Nicolett Mall during the lunch rush. To my left was an older, disheveled woman holding a sign that read "Homeless, please help." In front of me were three thugs in full regalia -  pants on the ground, fake swagger, laughing about nothing, worrying about nothing, and up to no good. Oh, and somehow they rustled up three very expensive coffee drinks (malts) from Starbucks, which I judged them harshly for drinking, as it clashed with the "I'm a bad ass" vibe they were attempting to pull off, but also because I was sure they stole them.

Suddenly, they see the homeless woman and start to whisper to each other. I panic. Ready to spring into action and come to her defense when they inevitably say something nasty or even throw their girly drinks in her face. Just then, the middle one approaches her and...HANDS OVER HIS TREAT...then rejoins his friends. 

Say what, now?

They resume their conversation as if nothing happened, she eagerly sucks down the Frappucino, and I slow to a stop, stunned. 

A lump forms in my throat and my eyes well up with tears. I start moving forward again and even feel compelled to give the "thug" a pat on the back as I pass him, but I don't. I'm too ashamed for what I thought and how incredibly wrong I was. 

Man, did I learn a lesson that day.

Stop judging?

Hell no. 

I've just added myself to the list of those I judge. As I stood there frozen on the Nicolett Mall, I thought, "I'm an asshole." And, as usual, I was right.

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