Monday, July 16, 2018

Never Wrestle with a Pig. You Only get Dirty, and Besides, the Pig Likes it

Yeah, George Bernard Shaw was right, pigs are pigs. 

 I told this story to a co-worker and had a similar conversation with a close friend yesterday afternoon. The jist of it was that I never, and I mean never, had any patience with inflexible and wholly determined stupid people. Why? They long ago taxed my sympathy to zero by the time I was nine years old. Now if you were ignorant and came to me with a genuine desire to change that condition, that was different. However, most were too proud and imperious in their “duh-ness” to even think about changing that. The worst of that lot? Lazy AND ignorant. 

 I did phenomenally well in school. I enjoyed it. I knew how to study and absorb information. Success begets success you know and upward and onward I went. So, in fourth grade, Mrs Enos (who I genuinely liked) decided it would be a great idea for me to tutor some kids in the bottom 10% of her class. I ended up hating to do it. That's probably the only thing I disliked Enos for. 

One kid she paired me with was not only ignorant but he had that look too. His best talent was thuggery and that was probably the only thing that carried him through his life up to fourth grade when I knew him. I suspect it's what carried him to 18 years of age when all of a sudden, thuggery becomes “assault and battery” in a courtroom. So, I sat with him, for about 10 days, trying to show him how I did it. How I managed to ace tests, retain knowledge. It is a skill that can be learned. 

 “Just give me the answers!” he growled as we went over his exercises. 

“Look, if I do, you'll never learn this. You NEED to pass this final test to stay in this school! You have to take that test in the principal's office w/o anyone around you to help. You have to know how before you go in there.” I tell him.

 He was in danger of being expelled due to be too stupid for Potter's school. In Pawtucket at that time, especially if you went to school over on the east side, if you couldn't hack the “good” elementary schools of Potters or Curtis, they sent you to...ugh...Fallon school. Everyone regarded Fallon as the retard school. Yes, today that's politically incorrect but we're in 1974 mind you. That kid I was tutoring was headed straight for it if he didn't pass as least, one test in Eno's class. They had tried everything else in the book to turn him around. He was intransigent to all remedies. 

So, for a few days of trying to make him see the light, and add to that his badgering me for the answers only, I gave up on him. Also, his personality was just pure bully and I got sick of that too. 

One thing about these kind of people is that they incorrectly think pretty highly of themselves and lack the ability to figure themselves out. Or they refuse to self examine, that may find faults! I found a particular kind of “lack” in this kid and it was his misplaced pride. 

The losers of this world, due to whatever reason that brought them there, have to defend, to the death, whatever scraps of self esteem they have left. After a childhood's “lifetime” of being told “NO!” or how stupid, what failures they are and how ugly they look, you aren't left with much to defend to prop you up. Hence they fight like gladiators for those scraps of dignity. You've seen them, usually on Jerry Springer or the old COPS show. 

So, since this kid would never figure himself out, I did instead. With this knowledge, I led him right out of Potters into Fallon. For the rest of the week, I showed him how to do the problems and to his credit, he too could to it but I then refused to remind him that he had to practice it again and again till it stuck. He hated doing that to begin with and my constant reminders telling to do that, just angered him. So, when he got a problem right after I showed him, I stroked his pride, “Hey, you got it!” I could see him beam with delight. That's it, bask in it now asshole! We went onto the next problem and I repeated it again and again. 

“Looks like you're ready for that test in the principal's office” I told him. 

He sat there, safe in the knowledge he would do well. You could read it on his face. 

Thursday comes and he's sent to the principal's office to take the test (under the eyes of Mr Collette to prevent him from cheating, copying answers) and we stay in Eno's class and take ours. 

Monday comes, the thug isn't there. Tuesday comes as well as Wednesday, no thug. 

I ended up asking whatever happened to him. “Pauly? Oh, he's been sent to Fallon now” I was told. 

I just grinned. 

When I told this story to Nick, this guy I know at work, I get this: 

“Ron....you're an ASSHOLE!” 

I say:  “Nick...I hated him and he treated me like a dirtbag AND I was trying to help him at first! Look, to “operate” me is pretty easy. Treat me nice, I treat YOU nice. Treat me like dirt and I treat YOU like dirt! It's pretty easy! 

“Yeah, I guess so...I get it.” Nick finally says. 

*****

This nest one would've gotten me nailed on verbal sexual abuse, but it's 1979 it was aimed at another dullard that wanted a free ride off of me. We were all young teens then. Very sexually matured. Remember this as you read on.
 

Mrs Chatier held a science class and behind me a few tables back, were these three girls who I knew just did the bare minimum to get by. But as usual with these types, they can get behind and the finish line of final exams is coming up and they know they don't have the class average to pass. How did I know? Mrs Chatier was bitch of a teacher who, on an tear of anger one day, harangued all those in her class who needed at least a 90 on the final to pass the entire class with a meager C-. These three girls came under extra bitchy attention from Chatier who told them they needed more than a 90. 

So, I see it coming. They're going to come to me for hints and tricks on how to handle the test as I pretty much knew what Chatier was going to be asking us. How did I know? I paid attention in class for Christ's Sake. 

They hit me up for an entire week, trying every manipulative trick they know to get me to divulge what I know, the “way” to take the test. 

I finally get pissed and say, “What? I work all year to learn this and you want it for free? You all are welfare cases!” 

 “WE'RE NOT WELFARE CASES” they all seemed to chime at once. 

“Oh? You're not? What do you call someone who expects others to give them a check from the one who DOES have a job? 

I get silence. 

They were pissed. 

So, they keep at it, trying to wheedle me for the easy way out. Like I said before, I had NO patience for these types who were willfully lazy and stupid. They had blown the entire year off and now needed a high score on the final. 

One day, Shelli, (one of the girls) and I were alone in the classroom and she tries again to get me to help her skate the test. I say to her: “How about $5? I'll help you for $5” 

“Fuck you” she mutters. 

“Oh, you want me to give you a free ride? You want it w/o giving me anything? Typical!” I say. 

She glares at me. 

I don't know where these next comments came from, how it welled up in me, but it was PERFECT. It was the final thing I could say that would shut them all up. 

 I say the next because it was true. 

“Look, you have NOTHING you can give me. There's no HELP you can give me....but however it seems I can help you and you want it, bad! But you aren't willing, nor capable, of returning a favor...and I swear it's mostly because you aren't willing.” 

Then this: Pure genius. The Pièce de Résistance. It come from that part of you that's deep inside and you don't try, it just comes on it's own. 

I look at her, straight in her eyes and say. “Wait! There is ONE thing you can give me though.” 

I stare at her and she's not getting it just yet. Then the realization comes and she whips her head around from me and stares at the front of the classroom. 

To grind it in a bit deeper... 

“Look, I won't tell anyone. We can go behind the stage in the auditorium.” 

She shut up forever. All three did when she told them. 

They all failed the class after they took the exam. 

 *****

“Jesus Ron! You SAID that to her? God, you were a major JERK as a kid!” Nick says as he's chopping away at some celery on the cutting board. “Nick...I say it again...If you treat me GOOD, I treat you GOOD. Those three were just major pricks to me. So I became a mirror, I reflect back to people what the show me”