I don’t have much experience bearing the brunt of catty behavior, or witnessing catty behavior. Growing up an average dorky, nerdy girl, I gravitate towards other dorky, nerdy girls for friendships. Plus, I make it a point to not be friends with catty bitches, or associate with them. Sadly, there have been a few folks in my past, who I truly enjoyed and meshed with, but I could not get passed the CATTINESS they were spewing. (I felt guilty by association).
Does it mean that if you have ever made an unkind snarky comment about another person that you are a catty bitch? No. But you did just behave like one. Even I have moments, and fortunately I recognize them pretty quickly, you know…like in the same day. 🙂 And I of course check myself. But truthfully within my circle of friendships, our level of snarky, unkind comments run “g to pg-rated.” Ultimately, snarky comments are not the norm, and we eventually check ourselves, which is extra nice since it saves someone else the trouble (and awkwardness) of doing it. PHEW!!!! #IHATECONFLICT
Anyways, it has been a LONG TIME since I have been the subject of snarky, catty comments. As a matter of fact, I would probably have to look all the way back to high school to remember when I was AWARE of catty comments being made towards me. THAT’S A LONG TIME! So, to have it happen in front of me, mostly unaware until they very end was kind of SHOCKING.
Let’s set this up.
My weekends are hardcore gym days. Getting back into my old form is pretty important right now. I have been joined by a male friend a few times, who is a bigger gym nut than I am. He is also trying to get back in form, except he’s only interested in losing 10 pounds, while I want to lose…more. 🙂 He also happens to be VERY HAWT. We spin together for the first hour but separate after for the rest of the time at the gym, and then head out for a “healthy-ish” late lunch.
Anyways, I am not too particular on how I look like going to the gym, during the gym, and after the gym. It’s called working out for a reason. I sweat. I go hard. Or try to. I try to do hardcore cardio and some weight training. I go to the gym in standard gym gear: black spandex exercise pants and a gray dri-fit shirt from Nike. After the gym, I clean up, wash the grime from my face, reapply sunscreen, concealer and some blush, and I am good to go. But I am still looking scruffy. However, on this particular day – LAST WEEK – my makeup bag had been STOLEN so I couldn’t even wash my face after the gym because I don’t trust random ass cleansers from the gym. So, not only was the person who had stolen my makeup bag morally grimey, I WAS PHYSICALLY GRIMEY.
Anywho, we are done at the gym, I have moved on from talking/texting about my stolen makeup bag (which my friend DOES NOT UNDERSTAND AT ALL cuz it’s beauty stuff – what’s the big deal – duhh) and we get on the train. Two seats open up in front and we squeeze in. In front of us are two extra chatty young women – not girls – WOMEN. As we sit down in front of them, their hushed banter becomes more boisterous, like they are sharing a joke. A long running joke. They seem pretty animated but this is the subway system and I don’t like being aware of other people and I was certainly very aware of them. I just settle in and zone them out. It’s easy too because I am wearing my baseball cap to cover my grimey post-gym face and I am wearing my overpriced Gucci, nerdy-mod, black plastic frame eyeglasses. A small downward tilt blocks everything and I zone them out.
That is until their stop came up and they got up and momentarily stood at the front of the train doors waiting for it to open. One of those wenches blatantly turned in my direction and STARED at me for a few seconds…and then LAUGHED.
I asked my friend what the hell was that and he gave up the intel. THESE grimey wenches had been MAKING FUN of my physical appearance! This chick here. Right here. Apparently, they did not like the fact that I was sitting next to my friend who is a tall, built, swarthy, hawt dude who pulls in the ladies quite easily. I felt like I was TOTALLY PROFILED. Basically these wenches looked at him, and then looked at me, and decided that I should not be seen next to the likes of this dude!
Let’s just say I unleashed an explitive-laden diatribe and I DID NOT CHECK MYSELF. Of course, Mr. “Feeling Himself,” while he felt bad, still felt rather pleased two women had acted like total biatches because they found him attractive.
It makes me a lot less sympathetic to them when my friend initially pointed them out as the kind of women he would zone in on to pick up, string along for a few nighttime thrills and DUMP.
Not my most feminist OR charitable moment – BUT WHATEVER!
They can suck it!