SKIFUZA

Today I was stressed. And I got even more stressed. And more. And I (finally) de-stressed myself. Finally. The secret to de-stressing lies not in the hands of pills, home remedies or shrinks. It lies in kicking up a fight. And it's difficult, because I have sworn myself into the I-don't-go-looking-for-fights holy grail. But it happens, and perhaps sometimes it is the hand of God which intervenes and places me at the most ideal situation for eruption. For that what de-stressing is all about, erupting like the dormant volcano which suddenly goes berserk. It's just like throwing up all things bad and evil and spitting them at someone who deserves the spit. And as it happened, I think I spat out on one woman who has long deserved a good spitting. For months, maybe years. And I guess I did a lot of other people a favour too, in the history of mankind, it has always taken one man to conquer, and in my today's history it has taken one woman (me) to say a few home truths. Ok, the scenario. Paola Polyclinic Pharmacy. Had to pick up some meds. And I was hoping it wouldn't be the woman looking like a bat who would serve me. As it happened, it was the bat behind the counter. Please bear in mind that I have could pass as Dracula's daughter. So I presented all the documentation. The bat decided I had something missing and proceeded to throw all my documents and say a smug, Next Please. And as I bent down to pick my documentation, my vampire blood rushed to my head and that was it. This woman was about to cry, only she didn't know it because she usually made simple people cry. But I'm not simple. Nothing's simple about royal me. So I called her a SKIFUZA, plenty of times, probably five times in a row. That was when she grabbed all my documents again and in a childish style informed me that I'd have to walk on her dead body to get me meds. No problem. I'd have walked, although it would have been a difficult walk, her being so much like a bat and all bony and stuff. I didn't seethe, I just smiled inside, I really had so much more to say. Another pharmacist came rushing out meekly and served me in a snap. And I so wanted to push my meds under her snooty nose. But I didn't. Because she came back and told me to mind my language, but I'd said no vulgar language, I didn' swear. I just had said the truth, that she was a SKIFUZA. So I said the lovely word again, so she got so angry and said people like me would be able to report her and charge her. And then I just turned to good old English, talking like a born and bred Slimiza. And here's exactly what I said, "don't worry, I do not have the time to report skifuzi like you. I have watched you for ages and you seem to derive pleasure from treating people like flies. What do you think you are, a bumble-bee? You've had to go and get a degree just to be able to give people shampoo and cream from behind a counter. Does that make you really someone huh?" I turned around, gave her my royal back, and I could feel her eyes burn into me just as I could see her colleagues smile from behind their counter. And suddenly the day felt brighter, the wind didn't ruin my hair any longer, rather the breeze through my hair made me feel so liberated. I could go back tomorrow for more. I'm not sorry, not even an inch. Because I'd really watched this bat of a woman and she really smirks at old people and gives them such a hard time. Old people, just like little people, sometimes need help. And smirking and making them sweat is not on. If you do, you'd just be looking for someone like me, who will not tolerate the abuse of the imaginary power and make you sweat in return. That is just one reason why people like me, albeit very sparingly, exist.... big sigh.