Suppressing Stinkmeaner

Watch this video

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izdWZfdYXno&feature=related]

That, ladies and gentlemen, was the spirit of Stinkmeaner…a crazy (dead) Black man who took over the body of Uncle Tom in an epic episode of Boondocks – But what episode of Boondocks is NOT epic?

Back to the point.

We’ve all had our Stinkmeaner moments, I’m sure. If you’re uncertain about what exactly those are, allow me to assist you in your quest for understanding:

A Stinkmeaner moment is when the jerk in the Mustang cuts you off in traffic when you’ve been sitting on the exit ramp for 45 minutes like everyone else. That douche bag thinks his time is more valuable than everyone else’s and is entitled to get to work 5 minutes earlier than you.

Or when you’re heading to the check out line at the grocery store and some old fart with 50 items runs from behind you and starts stacking his items on the conveyor belt just as you’re approaching it.

It falls under days (like a Friday, perhaps) when your boss asks you at the last minute to stick behind and stuff press release folders, while he goes out for happy hour with the big wigs. It’s not that you don’t mind stuffing the folders, it’s just that that jerk-wad knew all WEEK the folders had to be done and waited until 5:25pm to dump the sheets on your desk and expect perfection.

Stinkmeaner has manifested several times in the grocery store when an over worked mother has just about had it with her snot nosed kids asking for cookies, Kool Aid and candy after she dun told them ‘no’ 22 times before.

Stinkmeaner is the persona who jumps out of your car and cusses the #@$*(^! out of the person making your day go a hard way. Everybody wants to be a Stinkmeaner, few of us have the balls to.

I myself had had to keep Stinkmeaner at bay at least 3 times this week, and all within the same day.  The first was when an idiot road worker with a “Stop” sign held up his sign…while standing next to an existing 4-way stop. As I approached (both) stop signs, he pounded on his mobile placard as though I was the imbecile. I was on the phone with a friend from Canada that I hadn’t spoken to in years, so I couldn’t/didn’t want to hang up to hurl obscenities at Obama’s latest example of getting the economy “moving again”. There was nothing wrong with our road that was being resurfaced.

I wish I had cussed the black off that Black man though, because as I rolled by, he shouted “You need to get off de phone, ma.”

You punk ass, b*tch ass, nigga ass NIGGA! Why don’t you figure out you need to be standing at least 5 yards within the spot YOU want me to stop! You ain’t sh*t, you ain’t neva gon’ be sh*t, and your children ain’t gon’ be sh*t either!

That’s what I wanted to say, but I drove on, keeping my eyes forward. My 4 year old was in the back seat.

Two hours later, I was sitting in the parking lot of a McDonald’s waiting for my eldest to get dropped off by her ‘donor’. He was supposed to be there at noon. He sent me a text at 12:30 to tell me there was heavy traffic. As I sat burning $2.75/gallon gas for the next hour to keep my car cool, a pick-up truck full of landscapers parked waaay to close to me. The driver got out, flung his door open and hit my passenger side so hard it actually shifted my car, despite the combined weight of me and two of my kids serving as an anchor. He looked over his shoulder, caught my gaze, and walked into McDonald’s, sweating and laughing because he had just scratched up my car.

You sweaty ass, Mexiville, redneck, manure scarping B*ITCH!!! I should KILL you for scratching my car…B*ITCH!!!!

That’s what I wanted to say…but I didn’t. I sat there, fuming and reading Twitter updates instead.

Finally, an hour later when my eldest DID get dropped off, I had to listen to a Broadway production all about why her hair was not done and why they were and hour and a half late getting there.

You no ‘ccount B*ITCH! You think I like sitting here burning up my gas with my babies in the car because, what? You just didn’t feel like getting up this morning?? You no child support paying, uneducated, illiterate COON. Eat a bag of baby dicks!

But what did Malaka do instead? She nodded politely, ordered her child into the car and drove home on what little gas was left in the tank.

See, look atcha! You’re reading this right now, thinking about 6 people you wanted to cuss out and drop kick this week. I would say the world is a better place because folks like you and I have learned to suppress Stinkmeaner, but I don’t know that it is. There are far too many idiots out there that get away with far too much.