Being wrong isn't so hot, either, but there's nothing more validating yet even more frustrating than sensing people are absolute pricks and hoping with all your heart that they're not absolute pricks only to have them prove over and over again that yup, they really are absolute pricks.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one who smells a rat when she sees one. Usually I take a load of shit for it for a long, long time. I'll get labeled a troublemaker for making waves, for questioning the people around me, for pointing out what I see as the obvious, for wondering if those in authority are in it for the leadership value or for the ability to belittle and humiliate the underlings.
I'll stand alone or with the few, those of us ostracized as the critical ones who "apparently" wouldn't know cotton candy if it blew out of our noses like snot during cold season.
But, kids, this much I do know: I'm not a Kool-Aid drinker. You got that? Soylent Green is people. And by the way, I knew that the psychologist in Sixth Sense was dead right at the beginning, and I also knew from about 1/4 of the way in that Ed Norton and Brad Pitt were both Tyler Durden in Fight Club (Hello? Norton's name is never, ever mentioned until near the end of the movie, people), and that Gary Sinese was the bad guy in Snake Eyes less than thirty seconds into the film.
The few times that I have mistrusted my first impressions, I have been sadly mistaken and beat myself up over doubting myself in the first place. Look, do you think I actually enjoy knowing someone's an asshole the first or second time I meet him? You think I like knowing your boss cannot be trusted and that your job is on the line?
The saddest part is that I always hold out hope until the final second, and sometimes even beyond, that perhaps I'm wrong. Maybe, just maybe this time I miscalculated, misread, misbelieved. But, just in case, I should probably start looking for a room rental somewhere and a new career.
Hahaha! I knew I'd never get to write that thesis; I'll be too busy greeting people entering the store as I shove empty carriages at them and sing merrily, "Welcome to Wal-Mart. Enjoy your shopping experience."
I hate being right. It blows chunks big time.
