In a flagrant attempt to NOT discuss the elation felt by the whole of the oppressed world at the Obama's fina-freaking-ly confirmed nomination, I would like to discuss something about more down to earth; namely, how words thoughtlessly misspoken can turn from innocent gossip (which is almost never innocent), to torches and pitchforks before you can say, "these aren't the droids you're looking for".
My boss is a very old woman, stout, strong, frugal with resources (read: cheap), but generous with people, stubborn as a dead elephant, but nonetheless, someone I generally admire, though I tend to complain about her in polite company, cause gosh darn it, it's sooooo much easier to be at odds with the world sometimes. However, something happened a few days ago that took me so aback, I'll never talk about anal beads in her presence ever again.
I guess it is a fact of nature that old women can never get enough of spreading the ill word about everyone they can. What happened: There is a young man living with his girlfriend and their love child in the top floor apartment above my store. The other tenants, all one of them, were very reluctant when Dr. Mr. rented out the apartment to said young man because he apparent came from the "wrong side of town": they must mean the side that doesn't have it's own pottery shop. However, he is a completely friendly and social chap, despite how many drugs his family did/sold/prostituted for/grew/refined etc....and after he had been there for a while, all the buzzing of the rumour bees seemed to quiet and they accepted that it was not a disasterously horrible man that had moved in.
Then a interesting combination of circumstances and the end/beginning of the month timing and all, blew in and almost ruined the man.
My co-worker and I witnessed a large truck pulling away laden with valuables, including a bed, a few days ago. We didn't think much of it, until Mrs. Owner woman enters, and says, "We better call Dr. Mr. it looks like they are moving out", to which I replied, "well if they were, they surely would have told him, cause they aren't assholes". But she phoned him anyway, being the previous owners of the building, completely unable to keep their noses out of what used to be but no longer is their business. And he had no idea what was going on. They had given no notice, what was going on, they signed a lease, and so began a great bitch session amoungst the old owners on the phone to the new owner about what a beast of man they had rented to, and someone should have known better cause his family was chalk full of Sex, Drugs, Teen abortions, Foodbank Fraud, and anything else that came to mind. Mrs. Boss woman, not content to destroy the man merely in the confines of the relationship he'd apparently offended, began to slander him to in-coming customers, and within 30 minutes of discovering this breach of trust and legally-binding rent agreement, she made the following statements:
"And you know, it wasn't just his furniture they were moving, they were taking stuff that we had put in the apartment, that couch was brand new, and the table and chairs...".
So now he is not only a no-notice-giving-moving-out-son-of-a-bitch, he's a down-right-dirty-took-the-prefurnished-furniture-bastard. And just as his right ear was about to burn a hole in the side of his head, the man himself appears, meets the full stares of everyone in the store and says, " hey guys, what's going on?" My co-worker politely, but directly asks if he is moving out, and he says no, so she asks about the furniture, and it turns out that, miracle of miracles, they bought NEW furniture! They were out fulfilling their duty as modern consumers, who are supposed to purchase a new carpet every 10 years, a new car every 5, and at least one musical instrument that no one knows how to play every 2, in ignorant bliss of the slander their shopping spree had bought them.
Mrs. Boss had made it all up, on the spot! I get the feeling she didn't even realize that she was talking out of what left of her raisiny old ass, ta boot? Jesus, and all without a whiff of proof of any fowl play whatsoever. They were even set to call the Fuzz.
Then it occured to me, this is how 'rumours' get started. Somebody just makes some shit up, and no one knows any better. Can you really trust anything anyone says about anyone or anything? I would like to say yes, because I try for the truth always, but isn' t part of the problem: once we hear and believe flat out stanky bullshit, we repeat it like it's truth. Trying to cut rumours off after they've passed even to one other person is like closing the sphincter after a fart has left anus. Pointless, just like a FART.
All I can say from learning a lesson from all this is that old women are terrible gossips, and try not to involve them in any of your affairs. And as the ancient Chinese say, "Never straighten you cap under a plum tree". Which has a deeper meaning in it's lunacy than any I could convey sensibly.
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