Politeness and Manners

 

(I don't hate anybody. It's a waste of time.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Three Korean men kidnapped a woman off the streets of Seoul at 11 p.m. They proceeded to drive two hours south until they arrived at the outskirts of Daejeon. After that, they removed her from the car and murdered the poor lady. Her body was discovered in a rural area close to a popular dam where people go to fish.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. President Trump has been indicted by a grand jury located in New York City. The district attorney, Alvin Bragg, claims that Orange Donald is guilty of paying pornstar Stormy Daniels to keep her mouth shut about their sexual affair. However, this is nothing more than a popcorn fart of a case, yet there is evil intent behind this action. Mr. Bragg and the rest of the libtards are hoping that the MAGA crowd will go crazy and commit acts of violence. This will give the-powers-that-be an excuse to clamp down further on our God-given rights.

The Dragon Lady looked at me. “My troat still hurt so bad.”

I said, “I told you to see the doctor.”

“It not Covid. I take da test.”

I nodded. “Well, that’s good news. You probably picked up a bug that I brought home from work. Lots of my students are sick as dogs.”

Rice-Boy Larry said, “That’s true, Mom. Half my friends are ill.”

I said, “You should eat a bowl of ass soup. It might help fight the virus.”

Koreans eat this smelly broth called twae-jong chigae. It reeks of shit. I kid you not. In fact, it’s so malodorous that it can literally turn your stomach. I no longer let my wife prepare it in my presence. I get violently ill and begin to gag uncontrollably. In fact, the stench is so strong that I am forced to vacate the apartment until the scent is gone.

The Dragon Lady shot me the stink eye. “Ass soup not work for da troat.”

I said, “How about lemon tea?”

“Remon tea? Maybe dat good. I will also use da honey.”

I clapped my hands together in triumph. “There you go! Soon, you’ll be right as rain.”

Later that morning, I drove to school with Rice-Boy Larry. We struck up a conversation along the way regarding the mass shooting in Tennessee. He’s been talking about the incident with his little friends. Even though my son has an English name, he is very much a boy of the peninsula. His buddies are Korean. His food is Korean. His language is Korean. And his culture is Korean.

He said, “Why did that angry tranny kill all those Christian children?”

I wagged my finger at him. “I never use a word like tranny. Instead, I prefer the term transvestite.”

“Why?”

“I’m old school.”

“Then why did that transvestite murder them people? You never see that kind of stuff in my country.”

I sighed heavily. “I don’t know, son. Your guess is as good as mine. But I think the woman was angry at God, and she decided to take out her fury on the kids.”

“All transsexuals should burn in hell.”

“I see it differently. The vast majority of them are probably nice. It’s the loonies who get all the press coverage. This lady was just a bad apple in desperate need of intensive psychiatric care. Lots of straight people are fucked up in the head, too.”

“So you condone crossdressing and homosexuality?”

I shrugged. “Not really. But I am a huge believer in politeness and manners. And they deserve kindness and dignity the same as everybody else. So if you have a friend named Ron and he suddenly wants you to call him Wanda, then just go ahead and do it. Why rock the boat?”