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You are not the boss of me.

No way

Getting along with people is something I am good at. There are not many people who I write off as someone I can’t find any value in knowing. Still, those people exist, and my reaction to one of them has left me questioning my maturity level.

A few days ago, a woman who works in my office entered into a conversation near my desk. The discussion rambled over several topics, eventually landing on one where her husband was mentioned. You know that group of people who I find no value in knowing? This woman’s husband is on that list.

I considered explaining to you why I don’t like this guy. Unfortunately, there are too many reasons to dislike him. I’m just going to leave it at that most in my office who have met him revile the man. He’s unpleasant and rude.

Also, he frequently has stuff in his beard.

So the office discussion rambled until this specimen’s wife said “we don’t really watch the Simpsons, ever. Well, we didn’t until someone told my husband that Homer Simpson’s favorite band is NRBQ. My husband loves NRBQ.”

Oh no. Not The Q.

NRBQ. I love that band. The news that this guy, who I don’t tolerate well, also likes NRBQ caused an immediate frustration in me. How could this be? This man is the opposite of me. He does not play well with others. His presence creeps people out. For God’s sake…NRBQ is cool, I am cool, but he isn’t. He, NRBQ and I can’t possibly connect on any level.

In a millisecond, my mind reached the only conclusion it could – I can’t listen to this band anymore. He has ruined NRBQ. Another part of my mind calculated the emotional age of someone who would think that as about nine. I am a nine-year old inside a middle-aged body.

Two days have passed. Mature Me and Immature Me have been in conference. Together, they’ve decided that I don’t want to give up a band I like because a jerk likes them too.

a single vanilla ice cream sandwich

It’s all better now. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Mature and Immature developed a plan. Old me is going to get some laundry done and make nine-year old me listen to NRBQ to remind him how very great they are. Afterward, both of me will have an ice cream sandwich together and realize that no one can steal our cool from us.

We decide what’s cool. We’re not going to let anyone be the boss of us on that.

Oh, and if we see that no good loser a Toots And The Maytals concert, his car is getting egged.

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29 Comments on “You are not the boss of me.”

  1. wordofabe says:

    I congratulate you on a very grown-up solution to your problem. I pray only that I am as wise at resolving this kind of stuff when I am as old as you.

  2. linlah says:

    Maybe you could look at it like this – he likes NRBQ but you appreciate NRBQ so you’re way more mature than a nine year old. Probably.

  3. Roger's Place says:

    So, what the hell is wrong with a nine-year old’s thinking?

    Forget all this maturity crap and egg the guys car NOW!

    You will feel better.

  4. queensgirl says:

    I’ve had those same feelings at Mets games…

  5. izaakmak says:

    Worry not my friend, a single redeeming quality STILL won’t get him on the RESCUE SHIP coming for WE THE WORTHY possessing taste enough to read Blurt! 🙄

  6. Lucky Eye says:

    Well, it’s not fair that you should stop listening to the band. This reminds me of a situation in 5th gr. I was the strange kid with ALL these people saying PWNED. When I started saying it, they were like: She just ruined the word PWNED. Let’s say something else.

  7. […] The Universe compensated with a repeat performance today of something that happened several months ago, wherein my dog’s rock-star celebrity trumped BossOfMe’s rock-star celebrity, so I fired up the desktop to write about it, and there in my inbox is notice that there’s a new Blurt titled, to my shock and awe, “You are not the boss of me.” […]

  8. pattypunker says:

    yep, i’m about as mature as you. i can remember the time an old boyfriend of mine dumped me for a girl from ireland, accent and all. i renounced my own heritage because of it.

    • omawarisan says:

      What?! An outrage! The entire nation should unquestionably pay for that.

      I’ve been conducting an economic embargo of Poland for years, after a bad relationship with a woman whose parents immigrated from there. I’ll add Ireland in solidarity with you.

  9. jammer5 says:

    NRBQ reminds me of Daddy Cool out of aussie land. Very good bands both. Tell the obnoxious dude the band members are all gay, and I’ll bet he tosses their cds.

  10. Pauline says:

    Think of his taste in music as his one redeeming quality and focus on that. If he’s in your office, and you’re forced to talk to him, you could share your love of this band. Who knows, you might even find out why he’s such a grouch if the conversation strays. 🙂

  11. Keli says:

    Welcome to my world! I periodically discover that I hold something in common with stupers (short for revoltingly stupid persons) and I am practically scarred for life. You are strong and wise my friend – balance is one of the keys to a happy life.
    BTW, I know some very bright 9-year-olds.

  12. planetross says:

    I’ve never heard of NRBQ! … I feel shame.

    Is that a Malcolm in the Middle reference in the title?

  13. Katybeth says:

    If everyone would only realize the value of sharing an ice cream sandwich with themselves in times likes these so many problems could be solved peacefully. The egg option sounds fun too..says the immature me ….

  14. omawarisan says:

    Reblogged this on Blurt and commented:

    OK, by now, you’ve noticed that I haven’t written new stuff for you this week. Unfortunately, we’ve had a death in the family and that’s taking up my time and energy.
    I shall return very soon.
    Today I’m pointing you back at something I wrote in 2010 about one of my favorite bands, NRBQ, and one of my least favorite people.
    I like it because I can read it and see where I’ve improved as a writer. I also like that I am just as ridiculously immature as the day I wrote it.

  15. At least adult you realizes that 9 year old you exists and has a mind of his own. Recently a colleague, in her 50s returned a series of books I had loaned her. They are a favourite of mine and I was anxious to hear if she enjoyed them as much as I did. It turns out she didn’t read them past the first chapter of book one. The main character had the same name as some woman who had had an affair with her husband (some 20+ years ago) so she wouldn’t read them. I was shocked at this “high school” behaviour from someone I respected personally and professionally. I guess we all have our inner 9 year old demons.


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