Give Me Some of That....

Give me some of that Fuck You attitude that seems so prevalent these days. It's in the air, in my face, in my eyes. It's in the half lidded gaze of disdain, the jutting chin and the pointed nose,the squared off shoulders and the defiance emanating in waves of indifference that is slathered all over everything and everyone in the room. Give me some of that Fuck You. Drape it over me like a heavy garment of defense, shielding me from the debacle of misjudgment and good intentions that have clung to me. Please, give me some of that Fuck You. Like a karate chop to the solar plexus, the attacker rendered senseless, shocked, stunned, she is taken aback and knocked down a peg or more. Give me some of that Fuck You Here's The Door And Never Come Back Again. It almost sounds like a Chinese dish. "Yeah, I'll take a pint of, uh, yeah, that Fuck You, yous got there. To go." It seems like everyone wants to be from New Jersey! And I just want a taste to get the sense of it; try it on for size. "Um, yes, please. Give me a Fuck You. What sizes do they come in?" Or, "Oh, look! There are those new Fuck Yous I've been meaning to try!" Then I realize that Fuck You isn't something that you can buy or order. It just has to come to you all at once in that instant before rational thought prevails and you contain it like some kind of shameful secret. It's just there when you need it. "Fuck YOU AND the horse you rode in on!" I mean, what does that really mean anyway?! An epithet? A verbal barrage of offense so effective it can stop a grown man in his tracks and render him speechless. Thus, it is the perfect defense. I sigh in wonderment. What must that be like?

Fuck You doesn't come easily to me. But I want it to. I really want it to rise to my surfaces, to my lips and out of my mouth, unbidden. I want it in that precise moment that is perfect timing, well placed, effective, leaving me feeling taller for having used it so well.  Done right it seems effortless like catching the perfect fly ball hit out into left center field. The crowd holds their breath, gasps as the ball slaps itself silly into the glove. There is an instant of stunned silence and then cheers rise in a cacophony of deafening noise that fills the stands. Well done! "Fuck You! Look what I can do!"

Give me some of that Fuck You, please and thank you. See? I told you that it didn't come easily to me. :)

Re-posted by permission from my past life
First published May 2007