public servants should serve!

I verbally bitch slapped a public servant today; needless to say it was not my finest hour. But she totally deserved it, she was a wretched bitch. Ugh, moving to a new town is miserable. I know that probably sounds ridiculous and you are wondering why I moved? Well that question can’t really be answered with a simple or short answer. It all started when out of nowhere my dad drops this bombshell on me. But something you first should understand about my dad is that he is calculatingly spontaneous. If you can understand that than you can understand my dad. For those of you who have no idea what that means, allow me to elaborate. When I was 18 years old I got a tattoo on my right shoulder blade. I was getting out of the shower one day and my dad noticed this huge black “blob”, as he referred to it, on my shoulder. He then threw what I refer to as the adult temper tantrum. He started screaming at me about tattoo’s being permanent, as if I was unaware of this fact, and how when I died I could no longer be buried in a Jewish cemetery, as if that was something I was looking forward to in death! He said that I would never be able to get a job with a tattoo, because apparently when you interview for jobs your potential employer, along with reading over your resume, inspects your body for tattoos. Six months later my dad was wearing a short sleeved shirt and I noticed a colorful “blob” on his arm. Needless to say, he had gotten a tattoo. All I said to him was “You know you can’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery now.” According to my father this had been something he had been thinking about for a long time and finally decided to do, so who was I to judge his decisions.