March 3: Oops!

I don't think anyone puts their foot in their mouth more than I do. I have a special knack for saying the most inappropriate comments at the the most inopportune times. I've made obscene remarks about girlfriends to boyfriends only to be told that the relationship had ended the night before. I've said things about people only to realize they were right behind me.

I've never referred to myself as "Daddy" until last week. It was to a complete stranger that was talking about her hair and I thought it would make my group of friends laugh if I said "Daddy likes." The stranger then informed me that she had just spread her dad's ashes the previous week. Daddy was humiliated and felt awful. We all say dumb things that we don't mean and immediately wish we could take back, but for me it's gotten to the point where my friends expect me to say the unexpected.

One particular event happened just a few days ago. A group of people were talking about tattoos that they had or were thinking about getting. Now, I'm not a fan of tattoos, but I'm not a fan of coffee either. That doesn't mean I go around yelling at people for drinking coffee and making them feel stupid for having their own preferences. So why did I open my fat mouth in regards to tattoos.

One of the members of the group was pointing out different tattoos that he/she had and what each one meant to him/her. Like the idiot that I am, I felt it was necessary to announce to the group of people how much I hated tattoos. I literally spat my feelings on the subject with a curled lip and stormed off. I wasn't pointing at this one individual's body art and degrading him/her for having them or making fun of them, but as soon as I left the conversation, I knew that's how my comments were received. After realizing my stupidity, I went back to the circle of friends and tried to correct my mistake, but it was too late. My words were already out in the open leaving a bad taste in everyone's mouth.

I've since apologized to the individual again, but it simply made things worse. The conversation was awkward and there wasn't a smooth transition to another topic. In fact, this blog will probably make matters even worse and I know I should drop it altogether, but I honestly feel really bad. I mean, if someone came up to me and told me that they hate brown hair with as much hostility as I used to describe tattoos, I would feel pretty bad too. (Maybe that's not a very good analogy, but it was the best I could come up with.) All I was trying to say was that I don't have any interest in getting one for myself. I know people get them for various reasons and that's perfectly fine by me.

So now, of course, all I will be able to think about when around this person and everyone else in the group that day is what a bitter and miserable person they must think I am. I'm sure things will calm down, bygones will be bygones, and everything will be fine and dandy until I congratulate a girl for being pregnant.



Listening to U2