Hate is Such a Strong Word

Hello, my name is Killer and I hate you.

I have an irrational dislike for random people. I can meet someone and almost immediately, I dislike them. Not like an, “I don’t want to see you outside of the work setting”, but more of a, “when you speak to me I feel like someone is shitting into my ear.” I call it irrational because it is often based on bizarre and random reasoning. A strange laugh, a funny smell, and most often, if they are “too familiar” on the first meeting.

You know the people, they are too touchy or shorten your name from Michael to Mike, Mikey, or if you really want to piss me off: Big Mike. Yes, I am a large person, and my name is Michael, but is it really appropriate for a society to identify each other with aesthetic faults? “Hey, Wide Ass Sue.” Or “Yo, Hair Lip Ed.” The only time it would be acceptable to call me “Big Mike” is if there are at least two other Michaels within an arms length of me, and one better be a midget (Little Mike) and the other of average build (Medium Mike). ((Hey! A bonus rant within a rant.)

This irrational dislike can extend to people I have never met. I have loathed Rosie O’Donnell long before it was cool to loathe her. She made my skin crawl back when she was on VH1’s Stand Up Spotlight. I wanted to hit her with a baseball bat when she was in A League of Their Own. I came very close to cramming wooden sticks into my ears every time she laughed on The Flintstones. It’s not her, it’s me, and if she were to suddenly appear in front of me with a six pack of fine micro-brewed beer and offer to give me a foot rub while I drank it, I would still punch her in the tit out of some deep, uncontrollable reaction.

The celebrity dislike is not so bad. I will never meet Rosie, and if she found out I had such disdain for her, she would obviously either get over it, or train one of her twenty adopted kids to track me down and kill me. The dislikes that are more distressing are the people I see almost everyday. I currently work with a woman who is, by all traditional measures, a very nice person. She appears caring, helpful, and genuine. She also wears a LOT of eyeliner, it looks as if she is trying to paint her forehead, and it always matches her brightly colored outfits. Without a hint of exaggeration, she looks an awful lot like Mimi from The Drew Carey Show, but a skinnier version. I and a few other nurses actually refer to her as Mimi.

Mimi loves to dominate the conversation with clever stories of her past nursing experience, she often regales all around of the good things she has done for the average joe, and to make it worse she laughs at all her own anecdotes with a loud and boisterous laugh. The only thing I can compare the laugh to is: a donkey is having sex with a cat, and then they are both run over by an out of control truck carrying a delivery of chalk boards and nails. And, the cherry on top of this cupcake, she wears a wig. A blonde, bob cut wig.

I have great fear that I will lose it one day and pull the wig off and use it to wipe the paint off her face. I’m sure it will get me shunned from society. The news reports will be filled with all the people who can attest to her heart-of-gold and her impeccable reputation. I on the other hand will be portrayed as an angry, crazed lunatic who is jealous of her nursing skills and great fashion sense. Their case will only be made stronger when they search my house and find the dismembered homeless guys all dressed up to look like Rosie O Donnell.