Take my hand

EVERYTHING in this life comes back to you. Absolutely everything.
Watch who you hurt today, because tomorrow they might be hurting you.

Today has been one of the longest in... a while.

Remember the boys who made my weekend a shit-fest? The elitist Mexican 21 year olds (hmmm... I might have failed to mention their age. But yeah, they're 1990 babies. Something that only added to my frustration because... I don't like younger little pricks clowning on me. I knew how to count, cut, paste, and wipe my own ass by the time they were born... motherfuckers better back the fuck up before they get smacked the fuck up, to quote the late great Tupac).
WELLLLLLLLLLL...
Jesus, God, The Universe... conspired to give me sweet, sweet revenge.

Ok, so maybe not revenge.... but it certainly offered me these kids' heads on a silver platter.

I could have taken the low road, and watched them squirm... or I could have taken the high road and taught them a good lesson, 7th Heaven-style.
Be a vindictive monster-- ANGRomalie-- and exact revenge on these motherfuckers... or... be AnoMALIE-- the real, genuine, sweet AnoMALIE?


If anything can be taken from my upbringing, it's the fact that I was raised to treat others the same way I'd like to be treated: with respect and dignity... and kindness... regardless of their background.
Be of service to my fellow man.
This is largely responsible for so many of my tears. I get so incredibly hurt when I meet people who don't treat me with the same respect as I do. It's probably the most hurtful thing anyone can do to me... hence the hate and violence I then proceed to display.
I always refuse to admit this, because it's painfully true... and I often find it to be a weakness: I'm nurturing AS FUCK. I'm nurturing to the point I'D like to be nurtured. I will hold your fucking hand until you feel safe to walk away... because that's exactly what would comfort me.

I received MGH's distressed phone call at noon, just as I was going out for a jog.
MGH: Hey. How are you?
Me: Hey, man! You back in San Francisco?
MGH: I'm in SFO right now...
Me: Cool. Didn't even text goodbye. That's cool.
MGH: It's been a long weekend... and it just got longer.
Me: What's up?
MGH: Well, back in the room, Fer and *Troll* gave me their passports to keep in my backpack... and when I got home... I realized... I still have their passports. They were supposed to leave this morning.
Me: Veeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrgaaaaaaaaaa!
MGH: What's worse is that they both have to be in school tomorrow. Fer has a presentation due... if he doesn't show up, he fails and has to repeat the whole year.
Me: You have got to be shitting me. That's terrible!
MGH: I feel like shit. I don't know what to do... we all don't know what to do... and I haven't slept since Wednesday. I'm fucked up and so confused right now.
Me: Holy shit. How about Fer and Troll?
MGH: They're panicking. Their entire family's panicking.

That was my chance right there.
Shrug it off with a maniacal laugh and say they deserved every bit of distress they were currently facing... or step up and help out these poor dudes to get them home safe?
Words can't describe how furious... how much I managed to LOATHE Troll in the course of four days. I'd think of him and my stomach would hurt. As a human being, I saw him as valuable as shit. Such a callous, shallow piece of shit.
However... I had to let my rage dissipate. I had to think... with the ruler of my being: my heart.
How would I like to be treated in this situation? I'm stranded in a foreign country... no passport, no phone, no family... no nothing... what do I do?!
Immediately, the nurturing good girl took charge.
I embraced these poor guys and put myself at their service... the same dudes who treated me like a call-girl/taxicab driver/maid/slave/piece of shit days earlier.
My heart couldn't let me throw these fuckers to the wolves, regardless of how shitty they had treated me or how badly they had made me cry. I just had to help.

The most surprised was obviously Little Orphan Annie's Troll Version. The moment I sprang to action, he screamed my name. The same fucking guy who called me "esa" was saying my real name every two seconds.
Yes, Troll, I WILL help you... and FOR FREE, with zero interest besides getting you home safely and in a timely fashion.
I helped them find MGH (because there was a period of three hours where no one couldn't reach him), a place to stay, and a ride (MEEEEEE!).

All this brouhaha... and what made it worth it? The look of relief in their giant, bewildered eyes when they saw me.
They may be 21, they may be on the verge of graduating from college, they may have more money in their bank account than they'll ever be able to spend... but the moment they realized they were passport/visa-less in a foreign country, completely alone, they turned into terrified five year olds lost in a department store.
It's ok, babes, hold my hand, I'll get you out.
And everything was worth it.
I even gave the damn Troll a blank-slate and agreed to befriend him.

Now I just have to get MGH (more on this guy later... after I get decent rest) home tomorrow morning and this weekend will finally go down in the books as "finished."


When I die, I'm definitely getting canonized and becoming the patron saint of the painfully shy, socially awkward, unattractive, potty-mouthed nerdy girls.