Bitch

My sweet and gentle husband taught me how to proudly use the word pussy - as in, "Toughen up and don't be a pussy!"
I had a hard time with it initially, being the sensitive and compassionate person that I am.
But it's grown on me over the years, and now it cracks Dave up to hear the word come out of my mouth.

Today I encountered a woman at Whole Foods in Berkeley that made me thankful we moved to Oakland and not Berkeley when we moved from SF.
I have no idea where this woman actually lives, but I know this would never have happened at my local Oakland Safeway.
One of the things that's been challenging for Dave and me, since we moved out of the big city into this part of the Bay Area that is urban but not quite, is how sensitive people can be.
There are a lot of people here who wear a lot of deep pain very much on the surface.
It's Northern California, Berkeley, a safe place to feel your feelings. I'm all for that, but sometimes it gets a little tiring.

Now don't get me wrong - I know pain. I have plenty of it, and it has deeply impacted the way I live my life.
But I am not a pussy, and I don't wear it on my sleeve. I guess I've arrived at a place of empowerment out of my experiences. What hasn't broken me has made me tougher.

So I pull into the Whole Foods parking lot right at lunch time and it's a zoo.
After watching cars fighting for parking spots, I go way to the back of the lot and create a spot for myself.
The whole time this is going on, I really have to go to the bathroom - something I'm used to by now after a year of dealing with colitis.
I stay calm and focused, but the need is urgent and I pretty much run from my car into the store and to the bathroom.
On my way to the bathroom past the crowded checkstands, I bump into someone's arm, but there's no time to look back and say anything - I gotta go!

I must've been in the bathroom for a good 5 minutes, and when I get out, a woman approaches me and asks me if I work at the store. I say no.
Apparently this is the woman I bumped into, and apparently she's been waiting for me while I've been in the bathroom.
I listen to her as she yells at me about how rude it is to run into someone, "injure" their arm, and say nothing.
I let her rant, and when she lets me get a word in, I apologize, and proceed to try and explain to her that I have a digestive condition that often causes me to have to run to a bathroom very urgently.
Her response? "Well, if your condition causes you to injure people in the process, maybe you shouldn't go out!"
That's when I lost my patience and calm completely. Who the f*#% was she to essentially call me an invalid and tell me to stay home?!
I asked her if it would help for her to know more about the details of my condition, and she clearly wasn't interested. She just kept ranting, talking with deep pain in her face about her "injured" arm.
So I showed her the middle finger on my right hand, called her an uncompassionate bitch, and walked away.

See, that's what I have no patience for. I had to call Karina as I was driving home, because she lives in New York, and I know any New Yorker in their right mind would've told this woman to f*$% off without even listening to her - not to mention that a New Yorker wouldn't have bothered to wait for me to share a piece of her mind because I'd bumped into her and not stopped to say something.
As I listened to her rant at me, what I really wanted to say was, "You pussy! Cry me a river and cut the victim shit!"
I have colitis for pete's sake, and I don't walk around like that.

I guess I must be ready to leave California and move to Israel - now that's not a country for pussies!