GeneralLoganIsPerpetuallyPissed

    Some fockers just don’t know.

     I have proof. Take a minute and think about your last trip to the dentist. From pearly white land, he cannot find a way to comprehend why you just REFUSE TO FLOSS. He is violently offended by your daily Dr. Pepper intake (Dr. Pepper and your dentist had a few pre-med classes together, but that is neither here nor there). The poor fella just can’t understand how you could live in dental Hell, and not know it. He needs a punch in the teeth. Think of how the toothless freak would triple his business!

     So you ignore the numbness in the left side of your face and jump in the Taurus on your merry way to anti-prom queen land. Of course, you are in an understandable hurry. Problem is, the Five O that just pulled you over hasn’t had his lard latte, and is about to rip you a new one (a ticket that is). As Sgt. Prom Queen rolls out of his faux-leather ass cushion, he slinks toward your car, taking care to tap the tint off your window. All the while he is mulling through how he can’t understand why you would elect to go three and one quarter miles over the posted limit. Time to dry-test your .38 officer…that’s it, just keep smiling…(Ed. note: If it's a D.A.R.E. officer, it's always a dry-test; those guys don't get bullets)

     You get home, fuming from the day’s torment, just in time to catch a phone call as it teeters on the edge of the all-important fifth ring. The answering machine clicks on as you pick up. Soon you are ear to mouth with some part-time college prom queen who assumes you are prepared to listen to the details of his “getaway” to Branson, MO (FYI: The entire of population of Branson has yet to “get away”) (Ed. note: every time I'm in debate over so much as ordering a pizza, I consult with GL, first). Why wouldn’t you be up for the jaunt? It just makes sense, doesn’t it? Just a few years ago, this was the same kid trying to get you to upsize to the large drink. It is the better value, sir. How about I punch you in your jabbering face, Prom Queen, Jr.?

     Your kids’ teacher? She doesn’t get how the hell you can let your kids slide on everything from homework to midnight fright theater. On a similar note, your kids don’t get you, either. They fail to understand how peeing in the potty can be nearly as much fun for you (Ed. note: I was potty trained by my dad, who'd toss cigarette butts in and convince me to "sink the submarine with my acid pee;" it was fun). Your mailman? Can’t get the prom queening deal with your lawn “ornaments” (P.S. Do not upset this man!). CBS executive programming staff? There’s a LOT they don’t understand about you and yours.

     My point? People’s limited perspective tend to brand them as an ignorant lot of prom queens. And for the most part, this sits just fine with them. You can’t make everyone happy all the time. You can’t be everything at once. With a little forethought, you can avoid prom queen-itis like the plague. Be alert, careful reader, this absent-minded, anger-magnet lifestyle doesn’t have to be yours! To steer clear of this near-sighted disease, I suggest the following:

     Someone cuts in front of you in the bathroom line. But it is okay to let them go. Sure you paid your debt by waiting in line like everyone else…but on the plus side, if you should happen to leave a “residual presence,” you won’t have to face the music by running into that person back in the lobby. Advantage: you.

     Your parents don’t understand your new girlfriend, Lilith. In order to win them over, try this sure-fire method. Next time, bring home her brother, Rick. That opens up mom and dad to all kinds of girls. Advantage: you and your parents. Not Lilith though, she’s still stuck with an ignorant prom queen.

     You are not particularly fond of a certain band. Your neighbor in the apartment downstairs (the one that smells like that funny smoke), however, can stand nothing but that band, and that particular “hit” of theirs. As you ingest the inner meaning of phrases such as “I told tha bitch no,” or “A trucker’s life ain’t no life at all,” just remember that they could be singing the theme to…yes…Titanic (I apologize. I would have chosen another, less cliché song to blast just now, but all I can think of is Celine Dion and her ineptitude as she stumbles through life grasping for titles revolving around the word “love”).

     To conclude this dissertation, let me just remind you to put yourself in some other prom queen’s shoes occasionally. You’d be surprised how much room you’ll find. Upon returning them, remind them which one is for the left foot, and which is right.

     By taking time out each day to step outside the boundaries of your WAL-MART “name-brand” upbringing and embracing another set of eyes, you can take pride as you stand atop the checkout lane. “Gross! Why am I holding someone’s eyes?!” you will cry as your words echo all the way to register #22.

     Why indeed.