“I try not to use that word,” she said in a somewhat lecturing tone.
I really wish she hadn’t disclosed that. For the most part, I try to act like an adult and be respectful of other’s feelings. Perhaps it was the condescending tone in her voice. Or the fact we really weren’t clicking. Or just because everything she did annoyed me. But when she had that little heart to heart with me a familiar feeling rose up inside. A very familiar sensation. It wasn’t the feeling of cooperation either. I entered that selfish oh-I-can-be-such-a-stinker mode.
I’m not proud of it.
That feeling continues to rattle around inside of me. Sometimes it’s a real battle to not let it surface. Sometimes I don’t fight quite as hard as I should.
This story falls in with the latter.
When I found out my roommate did not like the word I found a way to use it. A lot. Every chance I got. It was a conscious effort at first to sneak it in after nearly every sentence. Operation brat = successful. It has become a phrase some people associate with me.
Again, not proud of the fact.
Have I mentioned how much I hate being lectured to?
Are you wondering what word could possibly elicit such a response? Let me replay the scene with the whole dialogue.
“I notice you use the word dang. I try not to use that word. Even though it’s not a swear word, the same emotion of a swear word accompanies it.”
As soon as she said it, the little file clerks inside my head went to work. They accessed every dang reference. They found a fitting one. Roger Miller’s song, Dang Me.
And that is how my catchphrase was born. “Oh, dang me.”