As you may know if you’re a faithful reader of my blog, I became The Bitch at my tennis club a month or so ago. If this is news to you, check out my post, Don’t Mess With Me. Don’t worry, I’ll wait while you read it. Okay, all finished? Now that’s you’re all caught up, let’s proceed, shall we? Anyway, since my recent crowning, I’ve not had occasion to rinse and repeat. That is, not until last week.
Something I’ve learned during my years on earth is that there are double standards. When a woman stands up for herself, she’s a bitch. When a man does, he’s assertive. But now that I have a reputation of sorts, I’m branching out. I’m riding this bitch-thing like a surfer on a really rad wave. Is that the correct terminology? I’ve never surfed so I’m just guessing here.
I have a lot of people fooled because many are under the assumption I’m a sweet and kind person who probably doesn’t swear or even gossip. Boy are those people mistaken. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying I’m a total bitch or anything, although I know some who disagree. You’ll meet them later.
I think I’m a decent human being. But if you continually aggravate me, all bets are off. And swearing? If you were a fly stuck in my car, you’d raise your eyebrows (if flies had eyebrows) with what emerges from these thin lips of mine as I rant over perceived inept drivers.
Let me out! This woman is crazy
And gossip? Guilty as charged. To demonstrate, I’ll quote a line from the movie, Steel Magnolias…
Yes friends, I admit I love me some juicy gossip.