Roughly three quarters of the time I spend writing I spend utilizing the backspace key. That’s not because I become easily dissatisfied with my writing. Frankly, I’m just self-absorbed enough for that to be impossible.
No, I do a lot of deleting because my inner monologue is so incredibly sarcastic and offensive that if it were transcribed right out of my head I’d need a bodyguard more than Rush Limbaugh would at a feminist rally.
My intense sarcasm gets me in trouble sometimes. Most people don’t understand it and end up looking at me like I just declared a hatred of puppies and candy, and it is that reason that I use as an excuse for most of my life’s mishaps.
For example, I never made it past the interview round of a prestigious co-ed fraternity. I was really upset, especially because I’m very passionate about academics and service. I blame it on the fact that when the girl asked what I’d say if I were giving a speech at her wedding, I said it would vary based on whether or not there was an open bar.
Try not to shake your heads at me: Everyone interviewing me was wearing goofy children’s sunglasses with their feet propped up on the table and talking to me as if I were something they just scraped off the bottom of their Crocs. I am so sorry my lack of professionalism somehow trumped yours.
I also regrettably never made it past the third or so round to become a campus tour guide. I’ve secretly given families mini-tours and answered questions they had because I am very proud of our campus and know a surprisingly large amount of information — without certification.
Some dad actually asked why this wasn’t my real job.
I had a hard time explaining to him that it was probably because my life’s ambition is to wait in the bushes for a school tour to come by and right when they get to the high statistics about student happiness, I stumble out yelling, “Get … me … out of … here!” like that old lady in Happy Gilmore.”
It is in social situations that I find myself getting into the most trouble. It’s my fault I guess, because I should probably get to know people a little better before I open up with this one:
While beginning a group project, someone made a comment about how great it was that our group was so diverse.
When I answered with, “Yeah, we just need one more continent and we could be on the cover of a college brochure!” I didn’t exactly get a standing ovation.
Oops.
I never learn, because when I hear the old, “I don’t eat animal products” line, I have to bite my tongue so I don’t tell them that for every chicken wing they don’t eat, a starving third world child wishes he could have a chicken wing.
Oops again.
Even if I have established a friendship with someone, I can see how maybe some of my comments might give someone the impression that I’m insensitive, which is a completely false assumption, because I only laugh a few times when I watch The Notebook.
When people tell you they feel like they have a void in their lives and you can say in full confidence that you feel the same way when you realize you’re out of popcorn, you know you’ve found the right friends.
If you can’t stand the sarcasm, then get out of the street. No seriously, that’s dangerous.
Jackie Runion is a junior studying journalism at Ohio University and a columnist for The Post. Has sarcasm gotten you into trouble? Email Jackie at jr178409@ohiou.edu.
