Kindness Can Kill

It’s been a while but I’m back to discuss something that has me torn. As some of you may know and other may not and even more don’t give a shit, I moved to America over 4 months ago and while it’s been a great experience and one of my life long goals to live here there’s something that has started to irk me a little. The positivity! People that know me in person will tell you I’m the most miserable prick on the planet. My catchphrase is Meh. 11 years working in jobs serving the general public back in Ireland left me with a hatred of mankind and a chip on my shoulder. In Ireland this went for the most part un-noticed and I was free to drift through life like the piece of shit I am, untouched by mankind like Susan Boyles clit.

It’s different here and for the first few months I enjoyed the change. You walk out of your apartment in the morning and everybody say’s “Hello” or “Good Morning”, you walk around the place and people give a little wave or a nod and say hello. If you go into a restaurant you’d swear you just gave the waiter a tip large enough to put him and his future kids through college. They can’t be helpful enough. And it is great. BUT! What about those days when you aren’t feeling great? When you wake up pissed off and don’t want to have to put on some happy act? It doesn’t stop! I went to a place for lunch the other day and wasn’t feeling great, it was very hot outside, I had a tooth ache, a bad headache and didn’t sleep well the night before and then in walked the clown. The waiter kept putting on voices, my colleague ordered pancakes and Bobo flipped the plate around with the pancakes on them, that wasn’t enough. He kept coming over trying to talk to us about bullshit I had no interest in humoring him with. I had thought maybe I was set in my Irish ways and Americans just cope better with mood changes but my colleague turned to me as we walked back to my car and said “That motherfucker talks too much!, Just serve the damn pancakes and walk away”.  So now I’m left wondering, how do I handle the days I don’t feel like being assaulted with positivity?

Should I stock up on supplies for those dark days and try not to leave the apartment? I think service in Ireland is pretty shit and I’m not going to say I now prefer service in Ireland after going through this. Instead I suggest teams of people be sent from Ireland to America and vice versa. There has to be a happy middle ground! Somewhere between being hailed as a God and being grunted at for interrupting the sending of a text message. Somewhere between a big friendly wave as you walk past somebody and an intimidating stare. Having said all this I’ll be right back to pissing and moaning when I land back in Dublin and the Garda at customs grunts at me, sighs and waves me past with his hand. Ah sure, some like me are never happy.

Waiting to Exhale,



About thecityfathers

We sit around all day stroking our beards, clucking our tongues and discussing what's to be done with this Homer Simpson
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