Hello, My Name is Shannon, and I’m an Asshole

22 May

I think there are two types of friends:

The ones you see casually, grab a drink with when it’s convenient, and maybe text once or twice every couple of weeks. These are the kind of friends who will blow smoke up your ass and tell you what you need to hear so they can sleep at night.

Then there are the ones who play Devil’s advocate, who make you thankful you have unlimited nights and weekends, and will bail you out of jail in Mexico if necessary (or at least call your Dad, so he can do it). They answer your stupid questions, review your texts before you send them so you don’t look dumb, and tell you if you really do look fat in those jeans. These are the kind of people who will tell you when you’re being an asshole.

As you can imagine, the second type is a rare breed, and you aren’t allowed to take them for granted, even when they tell you things you don’t want to hear.

For instance, I recently learned that I am a Grade A Asshole (sometimes).

I kind of already knew this. Sarcasm has been my shield since those shitty girls in high school made me feel like I needed armadillo armor (also, since I live in Texas now, I am the world’s number one authority on armadillo…s… armadillion? Ok, forget I said anything) to live on this planet, and it hasn’t really come off since.

But I can be downright mean. And I forget that. Sometimes, when you don’t know me that well, I make a joke and you think I’m serious. I’m not. I’m rarely serious, 95% of the time I’m just being sarcastic and trying to deflect the attention away from me so everyone looks at you instead and I can try to be invisible.

I don’t mean most of what I say, unless they’re nice, complimentary things (not accompanied by an eye roll). When the “nice” part of you gets taken advantage of and you find yourself beaten down, you tend to try to protect yourself. That’s all it is.

Let me tell you, when you find the people who can look you in the eye and tell you that you’re being a shit head and you need to stop – hold onto them with all you’ve got. They’re your real friends. They’ve probably seen you at your very best, and at your very worst.

After all – you can’t let them go. They know too much.

 

 

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