Maybe Patience Isn't A Virtue...

Why must people test my patience? Do people really know that as much as I front, I am not the most patient person in the world?

For example, I hate being late for things. I prefer not to run on CP Time all the damn time thank you very much.

I don’t like missing the previews for movies. If I even think the previews have started, we’re catching the next time, no discussion needed. I’ll sit around for the next hour or so to catch the next showing I don’t care. Should’ve been ready on time.

I hate when maintenance, the cable guy or anything that requires me rolling out of the damn bed early as fuck in order to fix something because you know I’m not going to sleep while some strange person is roaming around my apartment and shit, is fucking late to do their job. Oh and they don’t be just 10-15 minutes late, motherfuckers are like two hours late and shit. And as soon as I say fuck it and hop in the shower…guess who’s knocking on the fucking door?

Now who’s shivering in their bathrobe watching as he/she come in to do a damn task that takes less than 20 minutes most of the time to complete?

Don’t give me a definite fucking time if you’re unable to do it at that time! I hate when folks tell me shit like, “Oh be ready at 6:30” and at 6:30 calling me talking about they’re running behind. You knew you’d be running behind anyway so why suggest the time? And have the nerve to get mad at me when I cop an attitude. In my world, it’s called the “15 minute courtesy call”.

If you know you’re not going to make it in the time slot allocated, please call 15 minutes beforehand to let someone know.

I mean don’t call me at 10:30 when we supposed to have met at 9, talking about “I’m running a little late…”

Naw homie…you think?

Depending on what it is, I’ve already probably taken my clothes off and put my PJs back on anyways.

And the chronically late friends? You know the ones who wouldn’t be on time for their own funeral? It’s a damn shame you have to trick them with the time in order to get some place on time. We’ve taken to just flat out lying about the time just so folks can be on time for real. “Um yeah girl we need to be at the club at 8 this time, you know so we can get there when the doors opens”, just so the broad can really arrive at 9-10.

And folks wonder why I don’t like depending on people for a ride and shit to go somewhere.

I’m the type now that I like to “get in and get out”. I don’t want to spend all day waiting for someone to give me a ride to Wal-Mart, arrive late as shit, AND complain the entire time I’m at the store because “I’m taking too long”.

Not to mention the ones who think you owe them something for taking precious time from sitting on his/her ass to drive you somewhere.

And then get mad when I tell them I rather catch the bus with 20 bags than call them up for a ride. Shit I’ll be waiting all day anyways might as well wait for the bus.

It was hard when I didn’t have a driver’s license *for the record I began legally driving summer 2005. Yeah the State of Illinois fucked up by giving me, of all people, a license* and it was hard when I first moved to the DC/MD/VA area because to get anywhere good I would have to get on some sort of an expressway. Although I will admit in MD, I could virtually get to several places quite easily by driving…as long as I wasn’t trying to go up to Silver Springs or Bethesda.

*thanks Toldja I didn’t know what to call all of these fucking cities and shit that starts and ends on certain blocks. I wanted to call them suburbs but some folks would cock their heads and ask why? Like only the suburbs are the boonies or the “good” areas or some shit. Shit I lived in Suitland, cross the street, I’m in Temple Hills…I’m like what the fuck? MD trying to get over on people and shit*

Now that I’m not so fearful to drive *and know to avoid rush hour, I’m not too stable at that yet* I’ve been venturing out more and more on my own. Fucked up parallel parking and all. One of these days someone is going to zing the other side of the damn car.

And I’m not taking up two parking spaces and shit. I now practice patience and work in the spot until I’m dead center. Never mind the people who look at me like I’m crazy and shit. You know I’m not looking in the mirror so stop walking in the back of my car!

I’m patient when it comes to driving. It actually soothes me. Put in my cd and I just cruise to wherever I’m going.

Getting lost and all. Fucking exit signs and shit.

At work *fanfare* I will be getting a raise and a promotion!

Apparently my manager *whom I knew from my old property* doesn’t want me to leave so he’s giving me the position I want.

Namely…M-F, 8-4:30p. Yes I will be joining the realms of NORMAL working hours!!

Can you tell I’m excited? I get my weekends back? You mean LIMITED interactions with the guests? Ok I’m lying. I know they won’t hesitate to drag me up front for some pointless question. AND in charge of the entire distribution of rooms in the hotel?

Complete power huh? Folks must have lost their minds.

But…I can kiss my sleeping until noon good-bye. Damn I loved that!

And then some “Gutter Slut” that I used to be cool with has taken to “Face Stalking” me on Face Book talking about some mess I’d supposedly said about her three fucking years ago!

Can she get some business for the ’07 please?

So you know I had to crush her right? Through messages of course but I know she felt the sting of my hate filled words.

Another thing I hate is when people put my name in shit. If I said it, I said it. No questions asked. But I hate when my name erupts in some bullshit when I’m not around to defend myself. And why the fuck is my name coming up in a conversation between her and this "unknown" anyway? Smells like bullshit. High School-ish bullshit but still bullshit all the same.

See people think they’re slick. They’ll say some shit and make it seem like a statement that I would say knowing damn well they said it but since I'm not there, "Oh Tenacious said this...". Usually something sarcastic as fuck but still made and said in a way that you know, only I could say. Which most of the time sounds so fucking stupid I'm insulted. Stop placing those third grade sarcastic remarks in my so-called mouth. I mean really, as an expert in sarcasm I demand a little respect. Sarcasm is a sacred art form not to be used by just any old person. But some just take it as just that and run with it.

Friends that really know me and know what’s capable of coming out of my mouth simply state, “That isn’t something she would say”. Or better yet call and ask.

But I don't say anything behind someone's back that I could not say to their face. Although most statements are something already said to his/her face, namely this chick I used to be cool with being a Hoe.

Not like that was a HUGE secret at U of I. Part of the reason I had to part ties with her. I'd rather be a hoe standing on my own rather than a hoe by default. Damn that "birds of a feather" shit, this eagle stands alone *lol*

Silly people? They wanna stalk you through the internet to come at you with some petty shit. Especially petty shit that can’t be named by person or what was said.

So to prevent the bitch from bothering me I just shut her tacky ass the fuck down and left it at that. I don’t care who said it nor what was said although I have a sneaking suspicion because I only associated with two other girls who were cool with her.

You know how that shit goes. Rat someone else out to make yourself seem better by so-called tricking *telling* all the dirt people said while said people weren’t cool in order to gain some sort of friendship back.

*yawn*

Let’s keep beefs within a year please.

But the shit fucked up my morning. I was mad as shit and had half a mind to call the suspects and let them know a thing or two.

But then I realized something.

One- I really didn’t care. Let them feel better by having a “We Hate Tenacious” party. Shit I have a bigger list to contribute if they really want to make it a hot party.

And that’s a few less invites for my wedding.

Two- I was out of Kix cereal. I needed to get some STAT.

And put the incident out of my head until she sent another reply back. But I know the bitch. After the first assault on words, bitch probably cried, you know dramatic that she always is and have been, and spent all weekend working on a reply, which fell flat.

You actually have to have feelings in order to be affected by dry words of assault.

I mean when you can’t call me anything more than some variation of a “dumb ass”, I know you’re no competition. I mean can I get a low blow or something to stay in the game? A “That’s why you fucked KAPPA” or something?

I really do hate assaulting people with words. I mean watching a face crumble is so heartbreaking you know? Especially when you don’t even have to dig up from past dirt to use. I mean never mind she’s suspected of having herpes due to the obnoxious amount of fucking she do to any male who tells her she’s pretty.

I mean I have nothing against promiscuous women. Let it be known that Tenacious loves the Hoes. No matter how low the self-esteem.

Who can argue about someone who loves sex? Needing to know a last name? Man that’s so last year? Being called pretty thus “get in my car” and I gladly oblige knowing I could easily become an Amber Alert? I mean duh he drives a nice car so he couldn’t be a sociopath, right?

Stripping at a seedy joint on the outskirts of town? Shit had I not fell off that pole during my audition I wouldn’t have a student loan right now. And I might be rolling in a nice vehicle. No Honda Civics over here. No sir-ree.

And besides all of this is going on via the internet. What am I going to do E-Slap her or something? E-Beefs are so fucking lame.

I did give her a D for effort though.

BUT I had to send a final blow to the face and went about my business. People are truly characters. She was starting to get a little annoying. I mean really come on now? Stalking through Face Book of all places? I guess she figured I wouldn’t have a My Space.

She was trying my patience and makes no mistake: I don’t have a problem traveling to where ever she is to handle this in the way that I see fit. Namely slapping the fuck out of her. Oh I slap a bitch in a heartbeat.

I haven’t grown up that much. I will still take it to the street straight Project style. Razor blade under the tongue, Vaselined face and hair braided to the back.

Ok well not the razor. I’d probably cut my tongue off.

But I’ll break a beer bottle in a second though. Shit improvise.

Load up on the finest of Johnson’s & Johnson’s and slap a hoe down Iceberg Slim style.

And the whole purpose of this entry?

Fucking technician has me on hold too fucking long.

Time to write a letter to Corporate.