Don’t Tell Me To Get My Dad a Prostitute…It’s Just Wrong

I worry and stress too much. I know this.

Yesterday, someone managed to inadvertently (I hope) be a complete dick. They told me that they could give me a hooker’s number for my dad and that we should rather stay and listen to their incessant droning about the minutiae in their lives . This was in the context of them having dropped by uninvited and not leaving my in-laws, when I made the overture for us to leave (about 2 hours later than we would have…had said person and his wife not arrived uninvited).

I walked away.

I know part of me was oversensitive to take offence. But part of me is pissed off at myself for not calling this guy on being such a dick. Because especially if you are ignorant of the facts you should be careful about making that comment.

Part of me is stressing that I did not handle the situation correctly…that I was rude! That I had no right to be upset. That I over-reacted.

It is the stupidest thing to be stressed about…these people are very insignificant in my life and yet right now part of my depleted energy reserves is being sucked up by a dickish comment.