Neanderthal Boogie
February 6, 2009
Jessica Alba, Jessica Biel and I had just gotten into the hot tub. Jessica Alba thought it might be a good idea if we had a contest to see who the best kisser was. She leaned in to kiss me, I closed my eyes as we move closer and… BANG BANG BANG! I was jolted awake; it was 9:30 AM and that banging scared the shit out of me, but what was it? BANG BANG BANG again, someone at my door. Then I hear a key slipping in the keyhole and turning. Now I’m freaking out. “Hello James, it’s Paul from maintenance”. I’m no longer freaked out, Paul is a nice guy, and brings any notices from the management into my apartment, instead of just leaving it on the door. He has a woman with him, the new apartment manager. He informs me that on Friday the entire building is being fogged for bugs. “But I don’t have bugs” I told him smugly, obviously I just won this little encounter. Then the new manager stepped in; “yes, but if we fog every apartment except yours then all the bugs will just make their way in here.” Well played manager lady, well played. So I begin to ask some questions such as; how long will I have to be out of the apartment for? Will it affect my electronics? Can you hold off until the afternoon so that my attendant can get me in my chair and outside?
These seem like coherent, intelligent questions to me, but apparently not to manager lady. She asks me if I have a “social worker” she can talk to so that they can explain these things to me. It took everything I had not to spit in her face and call her a dirty fucking whore for that comment. I maintain my composure and explain to her that I will explain everything to my attendant and the apartment will be ready on Friday. They leave, I calmed down and read through the list I was given of things to do to prepare the apartment for fogging. The day progresses, my attendant has arrived, I’m calm everything is good. I have my daily shower, I’m in my bedroom, not dressed yet, hair still wet, fucking sexy as hell. My attendant is getting my clothes when BANG BANG BANG at the door again. What the fuck? My attendant goes to the door and answers. It’s Paul again. I don’t go out there because I’m naked but I hear everything. Manager lady has sent Paul to ask my attendant how to get in touch with my social worker, so that they can make sure I understand what’s going on. Are you fucking kidding me? I was fuming, I almost rolled out there butt ass naked to tell this guy what is up. My attendant attempts to explain that I am competent, and that there is no social worker, or anyone else. I handle my own affairs. So he says okay. I was furious for the rest of the day and into the night. If I had gone down there right then, I would probably have been evicted for calling her a cunt and spitting in her face. Today my other attendant was here, she’s a very timid, soft-spoken woman. She spent a good part of the day getting the apartment ready for tomorrow’s fogging. At one point she went to go check my mail, which happens to be right next to the manager’s office. Manager lady approaches her and asks again for my social worker. I told earlier in the day what happened the day before and how angry it made me, she completely understood. So my timid attendant explains to manager lady how angry I was about this, that there is nothing wrong with my mind, and that it is rude for her to assume that because I have a physical disability, I also have a mental disability, and that she needs to stop stereotyping me. Manager lady says that she senses I was angry and she feels bad about that. Before the conversation ends though, she asks one more time if there’s someone she can call to make sure that I understand what is going on… My attendant, is now just as angry as I am, and is seriously wondering if perhaps manager lady needs a social worker of her own.
The stereotype of every disabled person having a mental disability as well has always bothered me. It’s silly, old world thinking, and if you believe it then you are just an ignorant fuck, and you deserve to be ass raped by a tiger.
Usually when confronted with someone who assumes that I’m a retard, I just set them straight and can quickly laugh it off. This time though, being insulted like that in my own home has really angered me, and beyond anger it hurt me. I don’t know why I’m so much more bothered by this incident, but I am. I don’t know how I’ll deal with this lady the next time I see her; I can’t just put on a fake smile and pretend everything is okay, and I can’t let my anger take control because if I do and I cross the line I could be evicted. Normally, finding the middle ground is easy for me but not this time. Any suggestions?
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1.
Aunt Helen | February 6, 2009 at 6:50 am
Send her a link to this blog post! Or print it out for her, so her “social worker” can read it to her and explain the big words.
2.
Marina | February 6, 2009 at 7:04 am
Do you know the owner of the apartment complex? Could you call them and ask that they help their employee make the connection that you are not retarded?
Of course, some people are just like that and there’s no other way for their brains to work. I remember once a guy I knew told me I wasn’t a Mexican because I wasn’t dirty like a Mexican. He’d rather deny the truth of my genetic heritage than dispose of his racist, ignorant thinking.
This reminds me of the time that I was walking up to my apartment behind my Spanish speaking neighbor and her granddaughter when this scary white guy called them (and maybe me too) wetbacks and yelled at them to go back to their dirt country. I’d like to think that I’m fairly used to that, that I’m able to let such blatant foolishness roll of my back, but for some reason the proximity to my door made it more intense and I totally had a balls to the wall, little baby bitch crying fit.
I can’t imagine if he’d been inside my house, actually questioning my credibility as an adult like your bitch landlord was. That guy may or may not even have been talking to me, who knows. But here I was, living my life like a regular girl, thinking I was doing okay, and there is this harsh reminder that no matter what I do, who I am inside my life, someone out there will always think I’m just a monkey, unfit for human decency.
It was totally okay for that guy to yell at some dirty wetbacks that were in his way on the apartment path, and in the end, there’s nothing I could have done or could do now about that situation. Every second I wasted thinking about that fucko was one less second I could have of my real life where I’m so much more than that.
That was really long. Sorry
3.
Marina | February 6, 2009 at 7:09 am
And by totally okay, I mean totally okay to him, not objectively.
4.
Bebe | February 6, 2009 at 9:06 am
This story infuriates me, but honestly if nothing anyone has said so far to her has got through, then there is probably nothing you can say or do. She is just a dumb cunt that thinks physical disability = childlike and therefore in need of a social worker. I suspect she realises that you are competent mentally, but can’t imagine how someone can possibly go through life with no arms and legs AND no social worker.
Maybe you could tell her your cat is your social worker and she should direct all queries through said cat from now on…
5.
Adina Katz | February 6, 2009 at 11:18 am
It sounds like she is the one with a mental issue here. Are you friends with any lawyers? Draft up a letter or have a lawyer friend do it, saying that she is discriminating against you and harassing you and your attendants and if she does it again you won’t be as kind and understanding and will sue the apartment complex. Definitely write her a letter or an e-mail though — if you wait and get into a face to face confrontation, it will be very difficult to control yourself, because this woman is obviously a cunt rag who needs to be taken down a few notches.
6.
Jameira | February 6, 2009 at 8:06 pm
I agree with Bebe’s comment regarding the cat. And as soon as she attempts to speak to you, say “hold on, I have to go get my cat”.
That lady was very ignorant. When you do see her and speak to her just remain above her, don’t sink to her level and engage in an angry spar. Just brain fuck her. Talk intelligently (not that you don’t) to her and be a little over the top with it, almost condescending.
Think, Sexy Potatoe like. How she murders people with her words.
7.
Josh | February 7, 2009 at 4:43 pm
Next time you see her talk like a retard, then when her defenses are down get her with the foot of furry.
8.
Yoav | February 21, 2009 at 11:48 am
You’re mad this time cause she woke you up out of that dream, harshly, and actually meeting her didn’t serve any purpose. If I’d read this sooner my advice would have been to find a way to lock her in the building while they’re fumigating. Next best thing: enlist her in the army, they take chicks now… far away.
9.
well | February 28, 2009 at 6:29 pm
2 things:
1. You say your “attendant” is “very timid”. Thats pretty harsh, calling her a wus 2 times is your short blog, but you get your diapers all in a wad when some asks if you have a social worker.
2. You DO have a social worker, your “attendant”. What the hell is the difference between a social worker and an attendant? My guess is nothing besides the stigma apparantly associated with the words “social worker”.
SInce you’ve listed yourself as being “poor” and needy, I’ll assume this “attendant” of yours works for the state and as such is a social worker, OR with the welfare check you get (from the state) you hire this “timid” lady privately and as such again, she IS a social worker.
10.
well | February 28, 2009 at 6:38 pm
Another thing, how are you gonna “spit in her face”? you can’t be any higher than about two and a half feet tall, is your manager a midget or something as well?
I’m sure you could attempt to spit in her face and maybe get a little spittle on her shirt collar with a good flying loogie, but then i’m sure you’d get your wish of being “punched in the face”, or in this case a good back of the hand to your face. All this since it wouldn’t be right to punch someone in the grill who can’t fight back.
11.
noarmsjames | February 28, 2009 at 7:18 pm
Well, what the hell is the difference between a social worker and an attendant? Perhaps you should have googled.
My attendant has no degree in social work. My attendant isn’t here to help me make decisions; as the manager implied. You are wrong. And why poor in quotes? I’m poor, I’m not faking it.
And as far as your comment about me spitting; come to me in person with your condescending attitude and lets see if I can hit your face…Douchebag.
12.
Kevin B | October 30, 2009 at 4:15 am
Followed your signature from katg site. I know this is an lod post, but damn!! What a story. That chick has problems. Should have asked if there was someone you could talk to in her office that could explain to her what you were saying. She was dumb to say it in the first place and then to have to be told 3 times. jeezalou.