#phonies
It was Monday, June 20th, 2022. My roommates and I are in Paris to see Olivia Rodrigo (in two days). But tonight, I was doing a favor for my great uncle Remy. Taking my elderly great-aunt Yvonne to the airport.
In RL this all happened in French but I wouldn’t do that to you - but just so you know.
“I’ve always thought of Anais as a granddaughter,” Yvonne said too loudly into my phone, which she had picked up and I was afraid she’d drop. She kept trying to hold it to her ear.
She smiled at me with her old lady dimples. “That’s sweet of you to say,” I lied. She doesn’t fool me. She’s not innocuous. She’s as mean as a snake and she doesn’t like ME at all. How did I end up doing this? I asked myself.
“No Aunt Yvonne,” I said as I gently moved the phone away from her ear. “This is a CAMERA call. Hold it out so they can SEE you.” She’s saying a final goodbye to Remy and letting a cousin know her arrival time. As the Facetime call ends, I pocket my phone with relief.
Lisa’s with us (I told her not to come) and she doesn’t speak French. So for her, this whole task is an awkward pantomime. Charles, our escort, drove us to Orly airport and he’s circling in wait to pick us up.
Yvonne walks at a glacial pace, and it took forever to clear security. Lisa and I have special tags allowing us to escort Yvonne to her gate. I offered to get her a wheelchair, but NOOOOO.
“We need to hurry –,” I began, but she interrupted me.
“Why are you wearing that skintight nothing?” she barked loudly, irritatedly, “if I had YOUR figure, I’d hide those tiny ******* (“minuscules seins,” in French, loudly). Heads turned. As I flushed with irritation, she cackled like a witch.
It’s 8pm in Paris and 30.5°C (87°F). I’m wearing a sports bra and two tank tops. Sue me. I wasn’t planning on doing this at all. We were staggering slowly through the terminal when, like a gift from God, an Air France courtesy tram pulled up next to us.
“Get on,” I demanded, “or we’ll miss your flight.” She did - as slowly as humanly possible.
When we finally got seated at the gate, she sent me for bottled water, a sleep mask, a neck pillow, sugarless lemon drops and a Paris Match magazine. “Thank you, my dear,” she said upon my return, baring her teeth at me in what I suppose was meant to be a smile.
“You should come and visit me (in Libreville, Gabon, Africa),” she suggested, “I think there are things I could teach you.” This is like that gingerbread-house invitation we read about as children.
“I can’t,” I said, with feigned regret, "I'm in school,” (I wouldn’t go there if she lived with Timothée Chalamet).
I heard a familiar voice, and I looked up to see my Grandmèr arriving with her usual entourage of 7 or 8 lackeys, a couple of frazzled Air France employees and two gendarmes.
“Yvonne,” she said, pointing to the two Air France employees, “these people will see to you. Say goodbye to Anais.”
“Goodbye dear,” Yvonne said in a fake, fragile voice. I gave Yvonne a half-hearted Paris bises (two kisses on each side) and my Grandmèr shooed me away with a hand gesture and an impatient, “Go, GO.” I’m afraid uncle Remy’s in trouble.
Yvonne and her branch of the family are the slimiest people you could ever meet. They’re billion-heirs (not billionaires - billion-heirs) who (theoretically) stand to inherit handsomely when my Grandmèr dies (I am NOT in that grubby lineup). They’re liars, cheaters and scoundrels who’d stab you in the face for an olive to put in their martinis. They're legal reasons my Grandmèr has to put up with them from time to time - but every interaction is fraught with phoniness.
About fifteen minutes later, Lisa and I are in the car with Charles racing back to Paris for dinner with our roommates. As I texted them to expect us in 20 minutes, Lisa said, “I got bad vibes from that old lady - the way she LOOKED at you when you weren’t watching..”
“YOU,” I said with a chuckle, “are very perceptive!”
Feb 6, 2023
Feb 6, 2023 at 3:38 PM UTC
Be wary of them,
Be wary of their cunning ways,
Don’t be fooled by their cheerful deposition,
Cause behind all those facades,
Lies a cruel heart.
At one glance, you might miss it
As they have a way of luring you in,
So much so that your instincts may fail you,
But fear not, as time will eventually tell.
In time, it will all be crystal clear,
In good time, you shall see
For everything eventually reveals itself.
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 3:32 PM UTC
"You come from a place of hurt," he said
In the movie.
"That's our fault. I'm sorry," he said
In the movie.
Only in movies
Do people have hearts.
No one has ever said they're sorry.
Not once.
Reality.
In reality
They blame you
Shame you
Silence you
They hate you
It's all your fault
They're perfect
Perfect love
Perfect love that doesn't care about your pain
The pain they cause
They never apologize
Only in movies
As fake as they are
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 9:01 PM UTC
I am already dead,
just too lazy
and apathetic
to make it official.
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 11:28 PM UTC
In every direction, to the limits of sight
Squirrels
Scrambling to fill their cheeks
With treasures to sustain
The coming sleep
In every corner, of every block
Squirrels
Frantic, pacing, scouring ground
For imaginary ignitable jewels
Dropped in a dream the night before
Down the paths of affluence
Opulent interests guarded with teeth
Squirrels
Frenzied hoarding for more
Smart black top-coat,
Covering a shiny shell,
On stiff skids of leather
And an armor of importance
Spitting orders, to the others
To forage and pillage,
And steal the nuts
To fatten and fan the
Flames of false dignity
And good intention
Inside holes hidden deep.
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
Sweetly reaching for my hand
A rattlesnake curls up in yours.
Smiling oh-so-carefully
To hide your poison pellet
Delivered with a kiss.
Platitudes and honeyed words
With fishhook barbs inside them.
Lies disguised as candy bars
Offered out with sticky fingers
Mostly crossed behind your back.
Promising that all is peaceful
And there’s no danger to be seen.
Alarms and sirens drown those words
And say my world is burning here,
And sinking in a morass there.
If only words were scimitars
To slash a way to truthfulness
And cut the evil from the hearts
That proclaim love for one and all
And secretly deliver hate.
ljm
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 12:33 AM UTC
It's the path to righteousness
Put a five dollar bill in the plate
Then be as iniquitous as you like
And your life will turn out great.
Put in a buck or two, maybe more
It's a method known since 1147
In an urchin's hand and you score.
Anyone can buy their way into heaven.
It's the fake as hell, flaky as well
Bend and stretch Holiness Twist.
Do what you like, namecall a ****
Cleanse with a twist of your wrist.
Donate a dime, go commit a crime
To church Sunday, be Jesus kissed
Suddenly resurrected, sins deflected
You're an ace at the Holiness Twist.
Appearances are most important
In the big holiness game of life.
You have to have the big house
The big car and flashy wife.
You have to have the perfect lawn
With the current rage of shrubs.
You have to wear the right clothes
And belong to the right clubs.
But the biggest thing to accomplish
To keep from seeming totally odd
Is you have to have the right and
Obvious choice for your god.
It has to be the right kind of stuff;
It can't be Eastern unless it started
Back when there were miracles
Like when the waters parted.
It's the fake as hell, flaky as well
Bend and stretch Holiness Twist.
Do want you like, namecall a ****
Cleanse with a twist of your wrist.
Donate a dime, go commit a crime;
In church Sunday, be Jesus kissed
Suddenly resurrected, sins deflected
You're an ace at the Holiness Twist.
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 8:25 PM UTC
In life you are a total nobody if you aren't:
A "socialite superstar" who sacrifices moral for popularity
A tech freak
A work-a-holic
A married man or woman (opposite *** only!)
An insensitive "cowboy"
A confederate flag sympathizer (incomparable to ****** I guess)
A religious fanatic
Someone who is so open minded they are open to bad or EVIL
Rich as hell
Extremely violent or purposefully "unaware of bullies"
Anyone who graduated with honors (3.5 or higher, please!)
Certain everyone should work and/or drive
Covered by expensive life insurance
Popular with dozens of "honest friends"
A gun owner who doesn't believe in the need for regulation
A cigarette smoker (but *** is a "bigger devil!")
Hating cross dressers
A nudist hater
Built with a six pack
Absolutely certain that every hippy is "the devil"
A nature hater
Willing to **** anything that moves (they are the pests)
Giving away all natural love for money
One who loves to go to war, a.k.a. "gung-ho"
Gifted with perfected teeth
One to ignore the "little lower people" at work/school
A "brown noser," trying to even out-do your mentors
A cheeky person obsessed with being manager (I'm #1!)
Poised to kick someone out on a moments notice (no hustlers here!)
Always on "mommy" and "daddies" side, even if they went too far
The list goes on and on, but you need to be most of these to succeed!
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 4:27 AM UTC
He's so perfect! He's a great guy to bring home,
He has a fast, expensive car, he works at a good job,
He's got his own backyard, a house all his own,
He's got a lot of "decent" connections,
He's always around to be a wisest leader,
Loves to take you down if you failed inspections,
He's just so perfect!
And so this is what "real love" is all about. How unrealistic.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 2:06 AM UTC
*I am the cleanest, most thoughtful
Most caring one around that I know
Not giving one selfish desire my time,
Only hard working, dedicated and here
To be there to keep things in line,
So feel free to give me extra criticism,
To make me "walk on egg shells,"
I try so hard, I'm just so poor,
But who cares, I'm the worst because
Of some stupid argument at a door.*
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 1:49 AM UTC
i keep my soul hidden now beneath scattered tattered notebook paper pieces in outdated shoe boxes & deep between the covers of books, crisply underlined & strong- strong there, only there, with those words. most days i wake praying for rain; that tender soft world which it provides me with, drowns out the ever constant hum of traffic, arguing, the war on television, the growing sigh of humanity.
here i am.
I’m driving down some typical road all the roads look exactly the same here the streetlights passing by one by one by one. counting patterns in the road & I’m watching the swarm of black birds hanging over the highway; they’re swimming in their own way; kissing the sky & diving back down. that comfortable feeling of breaking skin
my blood may be the most priceless thing i own & maybe it’s for that reason i want to ruin it.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
*Newbie to this lathe
Don't wince at expositions
See lame gits as dust*
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
So you text me thinking we can resolve our problem
I'm still bearing wounds but I thought we could solve them
What's wrong then? I genuinely thought you were there,
But clearly it seems like you don't care
I thought you had my back,
But obviously you didn't.
Loyalty is what you lacked.
Bottled up animosity was what was hidden
And that we're channeling into what is written
So here's what I'm spittin I'm through splittin hairs about our problem
If you need me reach out to me
Don't expect me to read your mind
I'm not some kind of saviour.
I was just trying to be your friend.
Don't expect me to tolerate rude behaviour.
My hand I won't continue to lend.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 12:14 AM UTC
A yellow ladybird waiting for the light to turn red.
Patiently awaiting what's to come.
She knows better than to make rude gestures at the light.
It won't make it change any quicker.
She knows she can spend her time better than being an angst-ridden insect cynically hating phonies.
It's true patience is a virtue
and she sticks by this principle.
No matter what they say,
a principle's a principle.
The yellow ladybird knows a lot of things.
A delightful delinquent who enjoys reading eloquent literature
and can tell you who painted that pretty picture.
But she is still just a yellow ladybird.
Still only learning how to operate in this world.
But when the light turns red, then she will know.
Know more than she does now.
Soon the yellow ladybird will see the light, be it the light she would've liked or not, I can not say.
Only she can decide if the waiting was worth it.
And for her poor soul, I hope it was.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC