A couple friends asked me today about my dollhouse, and while I’ve been trying to avoid it, I might as well bite the bullet and tell you how it’s going (or not going). Last week I posted that Craigslist ad and within an hour my email was flooded with people wanting to know more details. While I thought I gave a pretty specific picture of the deal, I picked the two people who seemed least creepy and most genuine and emailed them back. In the meantime, some dude sent a fabulous email that said, “you’re a loser. get over yourself.”
I immediately clicked back to my CL post to figure out exactly WHAT made me a loser. Was it the fact that I was paying someone? The fact I bailed and didn’t do it myself? WHAT? But the posting had been flagged and removed (undoubtedly by the guy who called me a loser). Then the other two people never emailed me back and I deleted ALL of the responses in self-pity.
I’m someone who does ridiculous things, at times, on principle. And while I generally feel like I have a chillax personality, some things I just can’t let go of. Thor says I have a ridiculous sense of entitlement, meaning that when I believe I deserve something, I just won’t let it go…and he’s mostly right.
Back when I moved out of my first apartment, the landlord tried to weasel out of giving back my deposit and I spent weeks sleuthing my way to his locate seedy office (under a different name) and then waited in the parking lot for hours because I knew he was hiding inside. When I finally lost my patience I yelled through the mail slot, “Is that your Cadillac out here? I guess I’ll take my $400 out of the windshield!” Thirty seconds later he cracked open the door and I threw myself inside and refused to leave until I got my money.
When we first got married, we received many gift cards wherein I bought what appeared to be a nice solid Kitchenaid $40 can opener (thinking it would be the can opener of many married days). Less than a year later, it broke so I sent it in (with a very “disappointed” note) and received a new one in the mail about six weeks later. Then that one broke, so I repeated the process with an even more disappointed note. I kid you not, I have sent in one of their crappy can openers every year for the past six years.
The first time I ever hung out with my friend, Frances, I got kicked out of The Know over on Alberta (yes I was completely sober). They were going to start karaoke and I turned in my song slip first, with a very generous tip, but the douchey KJ (wearing a leather vest and no shirt, mind you) let all of his buddies and slutty gal pals sing first. When I started heckling him, the bouncer headed my way. I stomped up and took my tip back out of the jar and the bouncer pounced on me! And after some choice words were exchanged he physically THREW me out. But dammit I deserved to sing!
And see, here’s the thing: I don’t consider it entitlement. I consider it a system of equality. If I pay for something, I expect service. If I agree to something, I will hold up my end of the bargain so you should too. SOOOOO that means when I submit a dollhouse to the state fair, I expect it to be JUDGED. I expect it to be RETURNED. I expect some effing service! And because I am who I am, I just can’t let it go.