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By Misti Date: 2003 Oct 31 Comment on this Work [[2003.10.31.02.34.22474]] |
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I'm talking about Ms. Pacman, my favorite video game. I believe in gobbling all the dots life has to offer. Greedily grabbing and sucking the marrow from each experience, milking every sensation and moment for all it's worth. It's not all ebullience, obviously. Without agony there is no ebullience. Ebullience is authentic joy, it's not the Smile! Jesus Loves You! or Have A Nice Day bullshit that is forced down our throats in Amerikka from infancy. People who live their lives safely ensconced in the comfort zone cannot claim ebullience. You have to fight for it. A blond haired rich bitch in Hawaii who calls Victoria's Secret Direct and condescends to the person who takes her puny $25 order (that would be me) will never be ebullient. I'm guessing the blond hair and wealth. I just know she isn't "ethnic" or a native of the island. It's fairly obvious to discern. Try taking phone calls from catalog clients ten hours straight four days in a row for over a year and you will learn more than a thing or two about human nature and bullshit. You will quickly learn to discern and evaluate. Your intuition will become sharp as a razor. Last night I got a call from the same sad mentally challenged guy who has been calling since I started at VSD over a year ago. He always says the same thing. I usually just tell him to go fuck himself or get a life but last night I played around with the guy. Me:"Thanks for calling Victoria's Secret Direct. This is Misti. How may I help you?" Him:"Suck my dick, Misti." Me:"Okay. Sure." Him:"Suck my fat BLACK dick, Misti." Me:"Sure. Come on over and whip it out." I think he was shocked. He hung up. Then he called back a few minutes later and said the same thing. Again, I accepted his proposition and invited him to come on over. He asked where the call center was located. I said,"Kalamazoo." He asked where Kalamazoo was located. I told him it was in Sri Lanka. Then I had to go on about Sri Lanka for a bit because the guy doesn't know his geography. I have no idea where Kalamazoo is actually located...Michigan, maybe? He asked my nationality. I told him I was Jamaican and added that my husband is a Chinese janitor I met at work. He asked me if I have beautiful feet. My reply:"Uh, not really. I haven't clipped or painted my toenails in awhile and I've got pretty bad toe cheese. My feet are pretty skanky." You would think he would have hung up after that, but no. He insisted that I send him a catalog but would not give me an address. He just told me his name was Jim John. I told him I'd put a catalog in the mail immediately. He asked when he could expect it. I said,"The way the mail runs, probably in about two days." The guy obviously doesn't have much in the way of an IQ or a life. I enjoyed talking to him. It was more satisfying than just releasing the call. He's obviously very lonely and alienated. Can you imagine being so empty inside that you have to call and harass customer service reps for kicks? Just watched Michael Moore's "Bowling For Columbine." I like the way he didn't take the obvious route and make it emotionally over the top. His approach was matter-of-fact. I am saddened and disgusted by all that I don't know about the American government. Now I despise it even more than before. I asked my husband,"This isn't liberal propaganda, is it?" That's how ignorant I am. I have so much to learn. I want to start a revolution but I have no idea how to go about it. I'd leave the country altogether if I had money but I don't know where I'd go. Canada, maybe. Or a remote island. Germany appeals to me but I detest the language. It is an assault on my ears. And the overcrowding is disgusting. I need open space. I'm just babbling. I don't have a clue. So I write and make pop art collages and read a lot of books and magazines. And I gobble multitudes of dots... |