Say what you want to say
I went out with a guy in college who was from Chile. After holding hands with Bill, and being 19 and stupid ( is that redundant?), I thought he was the guy for me. Unfortunately, so did 3 of my co-workers whom he was dating at the same time.
As soon as I found out, I did the smart thing, and stayed away from him. I am surprised he noticed what with all the other girls he was going out with. He wanted to know what was wrong, and I, matter-of-factly said, "Bill, you are a player."
He looked confused.
I think he had to go and ask someone what that meant.
After he had it explained to him, he came back full of indignation to proclaim that, in his smarmy accent, "I am NOT a ladies man!"
I just looked at him.
"Yeah, you are. Goodbye."
After, I heard from a co-worker that Bill decided that American girls were mean.
Poor Bill...
I think that was one of the first times I ever told someone what I thought of them to their face. I had done it via e-mail or, in my artsy phase, through verse. I have seldom had the nerve and poise to do it calmly while a person is standing in front of me.
Oh sure, I have had fantasies about things I would say to people who are mean to me, but usually the things I would say are mean and nasty and saying them would just make me a lesser human being.
I was thinking about a repeat offender in my life. The bane of a tiny part of my existence, akin to the flying ants in my apartment: I don't think about them until they land on me and try to bite me. Jeremy has frankly told me that if he ever is in company with this person ever again, he is going to tell that person exactly what he thinks. I, however, know that my motives for telling this person off are considerably less than pure, and I would bungle it.
"Well, I think that you... you...you...gah! You stink!"
(Kind of like a couple of Christmases ago, and Emily came to visit. She got into town with her family, rested after their drive, and then called me up. "Hey, what's going on?" "DON'T PATRONIZE ME!" Click! Take that! What did she do? Nothing. Sad, I know.)
Maybe that's the trick. Perhaps your motives have to be pure. And they have to ask why you don't seem to like them anymore.
"I don't like you/want to hang out with you/ have anything to do with you/ be within thirty feet of you because of the following....Is that clear? Okay, goodbye."
I would probably save myself a lot of mental turmoil if I was just a peacemaker.
As soon as I found out, I did the smart thing, and stayed away from him. I am surprised he noticed what with all the other girls he was going out with. He wanted to know what was wrong, and I, matter-of-factly said, "Bill, you are a player."
He looked confused.
I think he had to go and ask someone what that meant.
After he had it explained to him, he came back full of indignation to proclaim that, in his smarmy accent, "I am NOT a ladies man!"
I just looked at him.
"Yeah, you are. Goodbye."
After, I heard from a co-worker that Bill decided that American girls were mean.
Poor Bill...
I think that was one of the first times I ever told someone what I thought of them to their face. I had done it via e-mail or, in my artsy phase, through verse. I have seldom had the nerve and poise to do it calmly while a person is standing in front of me.
Oh sure, I have had fantasies about things I would say to people who are mean to me, but usually the things I would say are mean and nasty and saying them would just make me a lesser human being.
I was thinking about a repeat offender in my life. The bane of a tiny part of my existence, akin to the flying ants in my apartment: I don't think about them until they land on me and try to bite me. Jeremy has frankly told me that if he ever is in company with this person ever again, he is going to tell that person exactly what he thinks. I, however, know that my motives for telling this person off are considerably less than pure, and I would bungle it.
"Well, I think that you... you...you...gah! You stink!"
(Kind of like a couple of Christmases ago, and Emily came to visit. She got into town with her family, rested after their drive, and then called me up. "Hey, what's going on?" "DON'T PATRONIZE ME!" Click! Take that! What did she do? Nothing. Sad, I know.)
Maybe that's the trick. Perhaps your motives have to be pure. And they have to ask why you don't seem to like them anymore.
"I don't like you/want to hang out with you/ have anything to do with you/ be within thirty feet of you because of the following....Is that clear? Okay, goodbye."
I would probably save myself a lot of mental turmoil if I was just a peacemaker.
Comments
What Mom said makes me think about something I quoted a while ago on one of my blogs: "I don't hate you, I nothing you."