I never heard a wage-based insult until I started working at a private (Christian[?]) college. A co-worker of mine was insulted between swear-words the other day with "you make $8/hour!" (we make considerably more). The inebriated speaker apparently thinks that making 8/hr is a reason to hang one's head in shame, probably because his daddy's patched his every boo-boo with a big fat check. The poor kid somehow equates wage with intelligence, character, or ability.
I pity the fool who thinks that this (wage=worth) is the case. I'm making close to twice what I've made at most of my previous jobs here, yet I don't think of myself as any more or less worthy to walk the earth because of it. It's a job that I enjoy and that I'm grateful for, and that's it.
How do these people live? Even more puzzling, how do they remain in the upper classes of society? By pure snob power?
Part of me longs to fulfill the proverb "Strike a scoffer, and the simple will learn prudence". Unfortunately, most institutions of learning have abandoned this effective teaching technique.
And so, I am left to apply the message of my last blog. Even though it wasn't even me being insulted.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::
On another note, the other day I had to go down the hall and confront the hispanic gangsta-guest-of-our-neighbors that's been ogling my wife when she does laundry. It's hard to warn people who don't speak English, but I think he got the idea.
::::::::::::::::::::::::
Well, I just got out of the night shift, and now need to write a paper on the difference between Romanesque and Gothic art for a class I have in two hours. Tuesdays are rough.
3 comments:
Years ago when I was hugely pregnant with Beth and Dirk was getting ready to go to sea whether the baby was born yet or not I started getting phone calls from an anonymous caller right after I would shower. Each time he would describe something intimate as if he were looking into my shower! This, as you can imagine, was incredibly upsetting!
My brother-in-law Darryl lived with us at the time and he saw that I was upset. So the next day when the phone call came he answered the phone (Dirk wasn't home) and all I heard from his end was, "Why thank you! I've never had that part of my body commented on before!"
Somehow between Dirk, Darryl & a ship full of guys they figured out it was someone from their ship and they took care of the problem. Even though Dirk was going to be leaving, I felt protected and proud.
Another time a hot-head neighbor who sometimes drank too much threatened to beat me up when I went to the mailbox. I called my husband who immediately left work declaring an emergency to his supervisor and went across the street to do business with this guy. Although he was threatening and a bully to me, he was afraid of Dirk and I was SOOOO proud! I swear Dirk was a foot taller when he confronted the guy though that was probably more in my mind.
Anyway, the reason I tell you all of this is we wives really like it when husbands come to the rescue...even if we don't say so at the time. So good job Judah, though I'm sorry you had to do it in the first place.
Hahaha Judah! I got the same comments and looks from people who know I was a student with a JOB. "Oh wait, you don't just borrow your mom/dad's credit card? OMG, like, blue collar much? LOL"
Losers. :)
Tammy, those are horrible stories! - albeit with happy endings. Women have it rough. And my compliments to Dirk, from the stories he sounds like an A-grade and I hope to attain to his level of manliness.
Jenn, aren't you glad you graduated out of the cake-eater cluster? Although I know you had some good friends... I just didn't expect this sort of behavior on a "Christian" campus. Much less a tiny and not terrible well-known one.
Post a Comment