Fangirl. Multi Fandom and Personal. NOT SPOILER FREE! Follow @chissjedi for all my Star Wars posts. Links to my other side blogs are on the "About Me" page on desktop.
nothing frustrates me more than when adults refuse to even slightly indulge the questions and thoughts of children. i remember one time when one of my younger cousins accidentally stumbled across the concept of purchasing power parity because she realised 10 rupees which bought her 10 candies in India only bought her ~3 candies when we went on holiday to Japan, and when she asked her mother about “why the same things cost different amounts in different places” my aunt had the audacity to call her spoiled for not understanding the “”worth” of money, that’s not what she was ASKING damn it!! your daughter just set up her own big mac index and realised a key metric of macroeconomics!!! how do you not find that utterly fascinating !! why don’t adults talk to children !!
So today pulling into Stop and Shop, this lady cut me off and nearly drove into me, and then, when I tried to pass her, she swung to the right and nearly hit me again, and then flipped me off.
So somebody is having a bad day and taking it out on me. That’s fine. It’s harmless, and I don’t know what’s going on in this woman’s life. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt she’s not just a piece of shit and is just having a bad day.
But then I park and she follows me, and gets out of the car and starts swearing at me and getting in my face.
Now I go from “indifferent” to “I’m gonna fuck with this woman’s head.” Now I would say I’m a gentleman of size, and in all black and bemohawked I probably look spookier than I actually am, so props to this lady for getting in my face. Now of course I’m not going to hit her, or even threaten violence. That’s shitty. Nobody should get threatened with violence.
Instead, I take a step back, narrowing my eyes like I’m studying her face really closely, and then I touch one of the several piece of “occulty” jewelry I’m wearing (none of which, by the way, are magicked in any way at all). Then I mumble some nonsense under my breath, and then make the fig gesture and the horns at her.
She stops, wide-eyed.
“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO TO ME?”
I chuckled, and shake my head. “Nothing at all.” I say in a not-terrible convincing voice. “But every time something bad happens to you today, you’re gonna be thinking of me.”
Binders are hand wash only and I've STRUGGLED and i cannot recommend enough: get your ass an antique washboard! Get one with a textured glass board! Rub soap onto the textured part of the glass and then rub your binder against it and all sweat and soil fucking disappears! This washboard must have been a huge game changer for our ancestors who used to have to lay shit on a rock and beat it with a stick. The textured glass washboard makes hand washing so fucking easy! Trans man lifehack, wash your tit holster like a Victorian lady!!