| Karma's a Biatch |
May 27, 2008 1:24 pm
Mood: Nervous Nelly, 882 Views | Do you believe in coincidences or karma?
Since I am only halfway, or even less, in my path to enlightenment, I find myself constantly wavering between belief, acceptance and complete cynicism.
But sometimes, things do seem to take on a rather Twilight Zone-ish feel.
I made, literally, a two-hour visit to my uncle's cafe to take care of some business and while there, had the misfortune of attracting the much-unwanted attention of Z's husband. OK, ex-husband as of last week, apparently.
The man, knowing full well how much his ex-wife detested me and how I have always avoided him, crept right next to me as I was chatting with some friends playing board games.
In his almost incomprehensible English, he asked as his eyes did an unauthorised and highly illegal joy ride over my inwardly nauseated person, "You play games? You like?"
I had to restrain a nasty sneer and the urge to snarl as I replied, "No, I am very bad at playing games as I do not have the patience for them. I leave them to others and just watch."
Silently, I added, "Bugger off, slimeball!"
As my friends watched him with horrid fascination, the half-wit gave it another royal try as he pointed to my shisha and asked, "You like this?"
No, moron, I absolutely detest it which is why I smoke it all the time. Roll eyes.
Damn my grandmother for teaching me manners.
"Yes I do. The smoke hides my face from unwanted eyes and the coals keeps unwanted hands away."
He looked confused and decided to cower back under his rock to ponder my words. My friends chuckled and went back to their board game as one of them ... a girl ... high-fived me.
What a wanker. Did he think I would entertain his clumsy come-on just because I do not like his wife? I pity her for ever having the cow sense to marry him.
Anyway, off I go, away from the two nutters. Or so I thought.
I get to the next port of call and while having a quick tea with an old friend, she asked if I had seen Z recently. Can I not get away from this woman at all?
I related the little incident with Z's ex-deadweight and she made the appropriate gasps of horror and mock-barfs of disgust. Then she lowered her voice as she said, "WHF, I am going to tell you something scandalous about Z!"
That got me worried.
"Er, maybe it would be better if you do not tell me then as I do not think I want to bear that kind of responsibility."
"No, no! It's about her past."
I was really, really uneasy now. My mind wove drunkenly with visions of her wielding axes of destruction as she cleaved her way through the half-broken bodies of dancers she had trampled upon, her stripping layers of dignity off her shroud of jealousy as she attempted to break the family units of rival dancers, her maniacal cackle as she slashed the pursestrings of pre-school children ...
"Her brother is mentally insane! He was born with schizophrenia and that explains why she is so cuckoo!"
This was relayed with a vast smile of satisfaction.
That's it?
That's the scandal? I felt vaguely deflated.
"Oh ... so? How does that make her nutso?"
"Well, it's hereditary! If someone in your family is crazy, it is likely you would inherit that and be crazy too!"
You don't say.
"I rather think it is a cop out for anyone to blame their genes and the such for them being bitter, nasty individuals. If claiming that you have mental instability in your family excuses you from taking responsibility for your actions, then let's find ole Aunt Katherine of the Alzheimer's infamy and go on a crime spree, shall we?"
"Oh, no! I am not trying to excuse her. I just mean that I can understand why she is crazy. I mean you can tell she had bad genes from the way she behaves. I always suspected it."
"Z is 'crazy' because she is a bitter person and her personality makes it impossible for her to be happy. It has nothing to do with a brother who is mentally unstable. This information does nothing to how I judge Z. I judge her on what she has done in her own right and to me. Whatever happens with her family, her children, her ancestors, her pets really has no significance to how I perceive her. She casts her own shadow."
"Well, it is medically proven that crazy people beget crazy people."
"Actually, it isn't proven. It is reported in medical studies but these cannot be conclusive as anything to do with the human brain and heart cannot be statistically analysed in this manner. And casting aspersions on a person based on "genetic anomaly" is unfair to that person and their family. Enough, let's change the subject."
I must admit I was irritated with the conversation. It smacked of provincial bigotry that I do not want to indulge in. So I cast off the unpleasant stench of the afternoon and decided I would visit a few art galleries.
And who should I see? The ex-husband of Z. No, not the one who hit on me. The one before that! Yes, she has more than one ex-husband.
Bugger, what the hell is going on? Is this some kind of evil conspiracy? Is this pay-back for gossiping about Z's family history?
I quickly dashed into one of the shops before he spotted me, hoping that he would not recognise me. I really could not deal with so much Z-ism in two days!
So, while I was trying my best to hide in this tiny art gallery, the shop manager started chatting with me about some of the rather pleasant pieces in the gallery. I kept my eyes and face determinedly on his and averted from the shop windows so Mr Ex-Husband-Before-Pervy-Scumball-of-Z's would not see me.
Unfortunately, the art gallery manager took that as a sign that I was interested in him. And I had to spend the next 30 minutes gently but firmly turning down his invitation to drinks that night.
Bloody hell, I have the worst luck.
By the time I deemed it safe enough to leave, I still walked with a nervous swiveling of head to ensure I did not bump into Z's ex-husband, and that the art gallery manager had not taken it into his head to follow me.
This is ridiculous. I need an anti-Z serum. The world is too small.
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