I'm A Good Person

I’m a Good Person
I am. I know you don't believe me because half of the shit I write about is basically complaining about everything in the entire world and how much I hate all of the people in it. But yesterday I realized that I have the capacity to be nice even to ugly, old people with dried paint all over their dried, cracked hands.

I was at the ATM in Wawa, which is where I always go to get money because they have no fee and I refuse to pay $3 to get my own damn money. Like why do the banks charge so much when they don't even have to do anything? It's an automated machine, and yes I know they have to refill it now and again, but its just ridiculous and I'm so cheap that I will actually walk away from an ATM if it charges more than $1.50 to dispense cash. Actually, it's not that I'm cheap. I'm principled.

So anyway, I finish at the ATM and this old, mangy looking man comes up to me. At first I thought he was going to stab me or cough on me or do some other foul deed, because he looked like the type. But he's like "Can you do me a favor? I have a splinter in my hand and I can't get it out." So I stood there in the middle of Wawa trying to get the splinter out of this guy's finger. It was really creepy and gross. At first I tried to do it without touching his flesh in any way. Like I had my ring finger and thumb like a pincer or a lobster claw and was trying to tweeze it out. But it then became apparent that if I were to get out of this horrible situation ever then I would have to TOUCH his hand. There was dried paint all over it. Like drips of paint as if he were painting a house a year ago and never bothered to wash his hands afterwards. So I had to hold his hand steady while I targeted the splinter and had my face all close to it and finally got it out. He wasn't even that grateful. I don't know what I expected. Maybe the whole store to be secretly watching like on TV when people get engaged and think no one is watching and then all these people break out in to applause. Yeah, I was expecting all the Wawa customers to start clapping and telling me that I was a hero and then maybe a priest to tell me that I never have to do another good deed for the rest of my life now because I just paid for my ticket to heaven. But the opposite of that happened. The guy just mumbled, "Thanks" and then went and bought a pack of cigarettes.

I guess its good to do nice things once in a while. I should do them to make up for a lot of the not good thoughts that populate my mind most of the time. For instance, the other night I was watching this show on like TLC or something about a girl who has sirenomelia, which is a genetic condition that causes a person's legs to be fused together at birth. Also, this is called Mermaid Syndrome. Anyway, this sweet little girl is a mermaid who can barely swim. Her dad and mom kept saying, "She has such a positive attitude. She's so happy despite her condition." And then her dad says "Well if she can be happy the way she is, then anybody can." And I started thinking, "You know what? I'd be pretty damn happy too if I had somebody cater to my every whim, buy me shit all the time, tell me how wonderful I was, all the while never having to worry about cleaning, paying bills, going to work, or walking around." This chick doesn't even have to walk, her dad just carts her around and she tells him "take me in the jewelry store, I want a new necklace" and then he does it. What a fucking life.

Yes, I'm terrible. But hear me out. The doctors wanted her to get her legs separated, but she said "No. This is the way I am and I want to stay this way." See, she doesn't want to walk. I don't blame her. She's only 8, but she fucking knows how awesome her life is right now. Her dad annoys me to no end. Like, who are you to say that anybody can be happy if your kid can be happy as a spoiled mermaid? What about somebody with a gun pointed at his head? What about a person who just lost her life savings at the track? What about a child starving in a crack den? What about me?

So anyway, you can think I'm going straight to a fiery hell for all I care. That's what I think. And if you ever have to take a splinter out of the body of a gross stranger in a Wawa then go ahead and judge me. But until you know how it feels to know that there isn't enough antiseptic solution in the world to make your hands clean again, leave me alone. Love!!!!!