Jeebus Hates Writers & Waitresses

7 Nov

A few weeks ago I was pontificating on how fabulous it is to not have my entire identity tied to my job. After twenty years in all things real estate and  office related, after decades of answering to The Man and marching to His orders down to what to wear, and after a life time of 8-5 fucktardery I declared, “fuck y’all, I’m a waitress now!”.  Take that office zombie life! I can just write, drink wine and throw plates of chicken fried steak at people for pocket cash! D’oh. I would like to amend my previous statement now. My mental health depends on a little group hug I like to call a Come To Jeebus meeting.

 In Austin you are summed up by a simple formula: job title + education + (shoes +watch+car+zip code)= epic. Or not. All easy and quantifiable pieces of awesome to state who you are. At the risk of sounding bitchy(er) , I always knew where I stood in Austin and it was good. Preferred seating at my favorite bars, friends in every nook and cranny, favoritism from the shoe boys at Nordstrom’s and invites to the secret purse room at Saks 5th Avenue. Sounds fantastically conceited and you can think what you want about Austin Cat because she gives zero fucks. Tell me how you feel after you have lived the awesome of getting a call from the Nordstrom’s shoe department letting you know your favorite designer shoes are going on clearance and a pair of your size in all styles have been held aside for you. That lifestyle was thirty years of clawing my way to the top and a very enjoyable way to spend a weekend.  Here in New Town, however, your total good citizen worth is based on two questions. The first is fucking mind-boggling to me and down right offensive to ask as far as I’m concerned. They may as well ask me if I like anal sex because that, as well as their #1 go- to -get- to -know- you -question, should result in a black eye or two for them.

Before your name, hi how are you or anything socially acceptable you are pretty much guaranteed to be asked where  you go to church. Not if you go. Seriously? Um, I don’t go nor do I believe an any invisible man in the sky, magical eight armed woman, fat man in a sheet or anything of the like. I don’t care if you do, nor do I judge you on it. Believe what you like and whatever makes you warm and fuzzy- just don’t tread on my right to do the same. I’m not even convinced they really want to know me- I am more certain they would like to collect gossip intelligence on the new people. I can’t win on #1 which makes my answer to  the #2 question incredibly high stakes. This explains why I have yet to make any acquaintances  close enough to even remotely be described as “friend”.

“Hi, where do you worship”

“Um, I don’t go to church per sa…”

“Oh. Well, you DO believe. Right?”

“My name is Cat nice to meet you! I’m from Austin how are you!”

“Well what do you DO Cat?”

Fucktastic! If they didn’t like my first answer then this one is really gonna make them shit a King James Bible.

“I write a blog about general fucktardery, dumb asses I cross paths with, my shoes, my period and shit that pisses me off in general. It’s funny, though! Most days.”

Crickets.

“Oh and I’m a waitress so I can get out of the house and earn some pocket-money and get my two tattoo sleeves done. And buy more wine. And save puppies.”

 I can’t tell if being a writer or waitress is worse here. I definitely know I need to find a man to worship and in a hurry if I want any chance at all of a social life here. The silly fact is that I get lonely. I need gossip, girl time and general shopping debauchery every now and again! Since there are more liquor stores than churches here (and there’s a Jeebus House on pretty much every corner) I guess I can’t claim Jack Daniels as my deity. I need a non violent reply. Believe me there have been so many times I would have liked to have slapped the fucktard out of some very holier-than-everyone-else-rude-ass-nosey bitches. Call it divine intervention or my brain trying to keep me out of jail, but  I have noticed a distinct lack of fashion here which gives me a brilliant  but totally believable answer to #1. From now on when I am asked where I worship I will respond that my home church is in Austin at St. Nordies and my leaders are Reverends C. Klein and Bandolino. When asked what it is I do I will reply that I am a social issues journalist with a focus in urban fine art. Yes, I do believe these responses will earn me the dignity of a country club invitation and perhaps the nice people here will soon realize I won’t eat their children, set their house wives free or single-handedly ruin their fine Jeebus fearing society.

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11 Responses to “Jeebus Hates Writers & Waitresses”

  1. Mandy Martin November 8, 2011 at 11:30 PM #

    Okay – I sent a mass message to my friends who live there and included you and I used the “suggest friends” button on some of them. First names only – Shan, Lisa, Paige, Sandra, Tammy, Lynn and Donna. I am hoping at least one of them comes through. LOL

  2. Tracy 'Pinky' Taylor November 8, 2011 at 5:28 PM #

    although none of those things are socially accepted in new town, i’d like a front row seat to watch their reactions when you tell them just that. are you really going to blow smoke up their asses to impress them or can you find out where all of the bad girls hang out?

    • Honey Badger Press November 8, 2011 at 5:33 PM #

      Mandy is gonna tell me where the bad girls hang out. Not so much as blow smoke as not to ruin The Man’s real estate business. Small town politics.

  3. Leigh Ann Rebholz November 7, 2011 at 8:08 PM #

    I’m sorry but that is freaking hilarious…I don’t envy your new choice of places to live…I say Fuck them all and their holyier than thou mighty asses!

    • Honey Badger Press November 7, 2011 at 10:15 PM #

      I have learned “fuck you”, “fuck off” and the middle finger is not a Jeebus friendly ending to a conversation. Perhaps I will just fire bomb them instead of the f bomb.

  4. Sandra November 7, 2011 at 7:44 PM #

    Cat I love this you are sooooooooooooo right about the people in (city bleeped out)….

  5. Mandy November 7, 2011 at 6:14 PM #

    Honey – I know some chicks there that won’t ask you where you go to church nor care that you write and are a waitress. Want me to hook you up?

    • Honey Badger Press November 7, 2011 at 10:14 PM #

      Yes please before I lose my mind and The Man has me committed to a crazy house which I am sure will lack good booze, shoes and porn.

      • Mandy November 8, 2011 at 6:18 PM #

        Ok – let me contact them first – I will give you their numbers once I have talked to them. Can I give them your number too?

      • Honey Badger Press November 8, 2011 at 10:45 PM #

        Of course! But let me know so I don’t go all turbo bitch and be like, “hey hooker, who the eff are you?”….

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