Brown on blondes

I officially despise blonde women. Well, obviously not all of them, that would be discrimination. And everybody who knows me, knows I hate discrimination. I believe discrimination is the lowest thing one human being can do to another and I absolutely hate it, I hate it even more than I hate Germans (this obviously is a joke.... how can I hate something more than the Germans? *1)/ And, I actually have blonde women among my best friends (Hi Becky!). But it's a certain kind of blonde woman that I really hate. You look puzzled, I'll try to explain.

This morning I was sitting next to one of them during an American Studies class. I didn't really notice her because, well... basically because I really couldn't care less about most women-I-don't-know if I tried (and I have). However, while I was happily ignoring her, she did notice me.

Let me start by saying that, yes, in theory she was right to complain. When I'm listening to a person talk to me for more than 10 minutes I get several ticks running through my body. They're pretty harmless, basically me shaking my right foot a lot, or me imagining a lepricorn sitting on my shoulder and telling me to burn things. Another one is me playing with my pen, the pen in question wasn't one of those you had to press to get the point to go up or down (and by doing that creating a "tsjlik tsjlik" sound). This was an ordinary pen with a little cap that I was opening and closing to the rhytm of "Bad Moon Rising" that was playing in my head.

Now, the sound that an action like that makes is ridiculously undisturbing. It's basically a "thup" sound and because my hands were on the pen I was muting the sound almost completely. Or so I thought. I was just happily thup-ping along when halfway through the lecture, the girl turned to me and whispered "Could you quit with the pen?".

It's not so much that she complained, it's the way she did it. First of all, to convey the message that I should quit playing with my pen, she used the Dutch verb "kappen". It's a word you usually reserve for either a friendly feud or the way you would complain if your next door neighbor would start playing gangsta rap at volume level 12 at 2 in the morning. It is most definitely not a thup-sound verb.

Second, it was the tone she used. She could have gone with a distant "Hi,-I-don't-know-you-and-I'm-sure-you're-a-decent-guy-,-but-I'm-trying-to-pay-attention-and-you're-distracting-me" tone. She didn't. She even could have gone with a, totally misplaced, "Hey,-we're-both-students-,-so-we're-buddies-,so-could-ya-do-me-a-favor-mate" tone. She didn't. Instead she went for the spoiled brat tone. That spoiled little girl tone. That tone that inmediately made me convinced that she had a father with way to much money on the bank and a mother on mood stabilizers. She knew I was going to stop the thupping, not because she was morally right, but because she always gets what she wants.

Then I took a look at her outfit. She wore those hip clothes people with actual sense of style stay away from as far as they can. The woman had a fucking belt with flowers and one of those coats with fake fur around the edges. She also smoked and (and I'm sure my female readers will now hate her too) she was ridiculously thin. In short, I was already in a bad mood, but now I was able to channel all my inner hatred towards a mental image of me smashing her head against her desk. Obviously, in the actual classroom I did the decent thing and stopped the thupping and started the foot shaking. But in the make-believe class room.... boy.

I'll say one thing for her though, great fag hag material.

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1) this is obviously also a joke. God, you people are slow.
2) bonus points, and a "duh!", to the one who can guess which legendary album title I raped, butchered and spit on for the title of this post.