Mind your business

Sometimes I wonder why so many people are into so many other people's business. I think I'm almost safe from all of this. One reason could be because I am odd and do not know how to socialise very much. So the few who do know me are completely trustworthy, the rest probably see me as this queer girl who stares into space quite a lot. And that raises eyebrows together with questions. I don't mind, in a very rude terminology which I rarely use, and which would make my mother call me a big pastaza, my butt isn't big for nothing. Plenty of space there for the ones who would love to go into my business. And if that's not enough, they could also try my hips which are not small for the same reason. Sorry mum, but sometimes I just can't help remembering the professional musician jargon I experienced in more than 16 years. And although it's rude, perhaps the fact that it was so crude sometimes is the only way to go and it goes through my mind in a flash. I could get even, I've seen professional people snipping away at their bangs in their class, drinking wine previously poured into an innocent iced tea bottle, doing their nails. Then they look haughtily at my Diet Coke. Maybe they want the Diet Coke man, I wouldn't know. And I've heard them laugh about their previous night of lovemaking, about how their spouse doesn't do it for them, how clumsy he is in bed, how they don't even grin and bear it but close their eyes and wait for it to be over because Valentine's Day is looming and they'd just love their husbands, whose dignity they've torn to shreds, to give them the Dior watch they've had their eyes on, and about how they'd just love to get an orgasm once in a while. And they will try to look at my Dior watch through the corner of their eye and talk some more. And they will wear excruciatingly tight pants while they look haughtily at my cleavage. Silly people. But I've never said anything, and never will because it's not my style. I give out a 'Leave me alone vibe' so I leave other people alone too. But getting even is not on, for one because I have nothing to get even about. And even if I had, I wouldn't. It's just so silly, look at her, look at him. Where would that take me anyway? Nowhere interesting. I have a life, although people who behave in such a manner must have a very feeble life if any at all. And that is when I am so sure that we could all learn so much from the little people we have around us. The same people who were on a gossip marathon suddenly decide to shout at a little person who is talking, they decide to show they're the boss because a little person is thirsty and wants to drink. They suddenly clean forget about the previous 15 minutes and become commander in chief. Oh dear, talk about double standards. I could never do that, it's not very self-righteous. And talk about double, I may have double their butt, but I also have double their cleavage, and that is one to die for... so there! (that's my catty side peeping out a little bit), but I like to think I have double their sense. Women shredding their husbands to bits with a five seconder head laugh now and then are disgusting. Some things are private and everybody has the right to his dignity. And all of this is professional... so please mind your professional business won't you?