One-up womanship is a pain in the butt

Yesterday I met Predatory Pam for tea-and-me-and-thee. I hoped for mutual benefit.

When I arrived, in an area not in my ‘hood, she was posed in front of the coffee shop window, as if ensconced on a throne, well perched and poised, ready to – Strike. Me. Out.

Her nose reached out, hook-like, with each verbal jab, each toast and roast aimed. She used every inch of her height, her toad-angled forehead, and her unadorned eyes to augment the power of self-weighted words.

That she admitted a competitive bent should have put me on red alert, but words take a while to sink into my bones. I apparently arrested at the childhood wonder stage, which has good edges and bad. I am sensitive and not always sensible in who I see and hear say. The butts.

The week prior I met Derringer Diane, so named for the look in her eyes, as if bullets could be shot from her pupils. Her instant name-dropping cast her as the Hansel and Gretel of self-definition, leaving a trail of references of purportedly well-known people to exclaim her prowess above mine. Rat-a-tat-tat! Gotcha! Bam!

Not – I found both conversational crones tediously inane. Derringer Diane is fortunate that she wore a hat to protect her pointy pate. She is fortunate that I am Kind. And Sane.

From early days, we define ourselves publicly. Our clothes, our clubs, our vocabularies, hobbies, and dalliances –  all act like chalk lines around our living bodies. It’s normal and natural…7549926-a-white-chalk-outline-of-a-dead-body-on-asphalt-cement

But when people get all boasty and better-than-thou, my inner barometer yawns. It’s a pain in the butt to sit through such —-, and I don’t waste a curtsey as I rebound. And Walk. Away.

I don’t think I’ll aim for a coffee shop trifecta. I don’t want or need people of that ill ilk; I can’t let them cut my heart out.

My personality, structure, and reasons are fully-fleshed out. Inside is a content that doesn’t need to compete. I know that I am loved.


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5 comments on “One-up womanship is a pain in the butt
  1. karla says:

    I think I met those same women. every place must have them. Call me I will meet you for coffee. miss u

  2. PJ Colando says:

    Bi-Coastal Coffee Klatch – ain’t it a catchy name, gf. Miss you, too! Our boats go China are gonna be slow because they are separate!

  3. Jessica says:

    The description you used reminds me so much of Harry Potter. 🙂

  4. PJ Colando says:

    wow, Jessica – that is a compliment of the highest order!!! Must be that, when I sat at the table where JK Rowling wrote the first book – in the Elephant House Tea Shop, Edinburgh, Scotland – something positive, rather than pain, came to my b—-.

    Don’t I mean to my brain!

  5. PJ Colando says:

    Ok – I am glad I am a good ‘forgetter’. I kept another Starbucks coffee klatch date with a writing peer and…
    She was overjoyed, enthused, and thrilled for the success…that she helped to shape. She is comfortable in her own lovely, lively skin, too.
    I call her M.A. Mentor

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