In this day and age where nothing supposedly surprises anyone anymore, I present to you the gaggle of judgmental people I call my colleagues. In a previous post, these people made sweeping comments about certain behaviors and characteristics that I possess.
Just this week, they found out that I had tattoos and let’s just say their reaction were equivalent to me telling them that I actually have a penis. Growing on my face. They were fascinated by my parents’ lax upbringing of us and wanted to push the envelope to see what would surprise them, which was when the question “what if you have a tattoo?” came up.
Guys. This is 2014. Don’t act as if we are still living in an era where tattoos were associated with gangs and such. You should have seen some of their faces; judging me but yet with eyes burning with curiosity about why/when/what/where I have tattoos.
Needless to say I had comments like but you look like such a decent girl! and the likes. So what now? Decent people are not allowed to do “indecent” stuff? By whose standards may I ask? See. I blame the strict regimental kind of upbringing our government has instilled in us in our growing up years. These are the same group of people who think all artists are starving and people in the LGBT community are abnormal.
How about burning us all “abnormal” people at the stake? You can even bring your own pitchforks and lighted torches. I can help you quicken the process by dousing myself in the alcohol that I brought along first.
Of course at that moment, all I wanted to do was to roll my eyes at those uptight few and show them my finger, but I had to suppress my real self and bring forth my work persona. Not because I’m two-faced but more of having to explain less, play nice and not stand out further than I already am.
I like to do what I enjoy doing which includes enjoying the arts and drinking. You like to act cute, show-off how blissfully in love you are on the WWW (cue gag-central), talk nonstop about your children, be fashionably questionable and you are totally free to do so. I never verbalised how you should lead your lives so I’d appreciate if you all stayed out of mine.
One thing’s for sure, this is precisely why some of you are, and will remain my colleagues and never as my friends. As colleagues, I will be cordial and respectful but never mistake that as friendship and overstep the boundary.
I’m also famously known for being hot-headed, a trait which I’m not proud of and definitely needs more work on. I also tend to say what I think, which sometimes rubs people the wrong way and can lead to misunderstandings. I’m not sorry that I’ve identified this select few as my colleagues (some people think this is a sure-fire way to career suicide) because I didn’t identify anyone in particular (not that I really care anyway) and it’s not like I’m divulging trade secrets. It’s just unfortunate that I have to spend a fair bit of my waking hours with them.
Oh. And stop inviting me to social events. The guys you see me hanging out with? Those are my friends who have transcended colleagues status. That’s also why I’ve never asked you along. I may have to play sweet (yuck) at work, but I most certainly do not have to entertain you after official work hours.