Things you might want to keep in mind while reading this post:
1. Hypocrisy is ugly, and when it comes camouflaged as kindness it becomes nasty.
2. People who try to con me into doing their nasty work should expect me to be me.
3. I am like a mirror—what people put in front of me will be reflected right back at them.
Have you ever answered your phone right after a gut feeling told you that you should have let the little bastard wail until it choked? I did just that a couple of days ago.
“Hey, Lula,” I said. That’s not her real name, of course, but you know how these things go.
“Hi Maggie.” Her use of one of my nicknames told me she wanted something.
I uttered a groan in my head. Lula and I have known each other since we were very young. I don’t like Lula. Lula doesn’t like me. Do the math. “Can I help you with anything,” I said, “I’m a little busy.”
“It’s Bell,” she said.
“Is your sister okay?” I put my annoyance aside. Bell is a sweet girl. I always wondered how Lula and her could have grown up in the same household, and be so different.
“My stepsister is fine,” Lula said. “She’s just doing things that will harm her. And she isn’t smart enough to—”
I cut her off. “Just tell me.”
“I don’t know if Mama told you, but I’ve been trying to get Bell to lose weight. As soon as her divorce was final, she got this so called modeling job at a place that takes pictures of fat people. They tell her she looks good. She believes them. And guys are probably figuring out she’s easy pickings, so she’s walking around smiling at every swinging dick and looking like a slut. I don’t—”
“Lula, what do you want?” You see, my Wicked Luvs, Bell has always been a happy girl. It was one of the reasons why we were such good friends growing up. Lula, on the other hand, always walked around with her nose scrunched up as if someone had just rubbed shit on her upper lip.
“I’m not asking for me, Maggie. It’s just that this is going to hurt her later. Bell’s too dumb to see that guys are just making fun of her. And with that shitty magazine making her think she’s hot, things will just—”
She sighed too loud for the gesture not to be fake. “Can you tell Bell she needs to lose weight? She’s pretending she’s happy because that’s what people expect from her. Tell her all those guys will never take her seriously. You’re friends, if you tell her…”
“Why do you want Bell to lose weight?” Bell has been a gorgeous thick girl since she was little.
“It’s unhealthy,” Lula said. “She looks bad. I don’t want people making fun of my stepsister.”
“Is that the reason why you wax your face, your chest, your forearms, and pretty much everything but your head and your eyelids? You don’t want people laughing at Bell’s sister?”
“I wax because it is hygienic, Magaly. And if you don’t care about what will happen to Bell just tell me.”
“Bell’s fine. And you wax because you’re freaking hairy,” I said, cackling. “Remember that time you went home crying because Jerkwad told you that he would kiss your back, if he wasn’t so afraid of hairballs.”
“You feel good making other people feel bad?” she said.
“Did I just hear the hairy soot calling the cauldron black?” I cackled some more. Loud.
“You’re hairy, too!”
“I am, indeed, Lula dearest. But I refuse to peel my forearms to please other people. And I’m blessed with the gift of not having to wax my cheeks, my forehead, my ever skulking beard, my—”
“You’re such a bitch.” Lula was shouting. “Why am I talking to you?.”
“Touché,” I said. But I don’t know if Lula heard me before she hung up on me.
I know, I know, my Wicked Luvs, I wasn’t very gentle with
poor little Lula. Worse yet, I won’t apologize for being mean to her. Hypocrites
are the scum of the universe, and to say that I’m sorry about telling her a few ugly
truths would make me filth.
And just so you know, Bell is not unhealthily heavy. She’s plump, tall, attractive, and can outrun me on my best day. Even better—and very much unlike her sister *cough, cough, stepsister*—my Bell loves all the bits her mama gave her.
|“Soot” by Caroco|