Cheap Leather Friends...

“Maybe I should just let my phone die…” I thought to myself as I made my way across the foyer of my apartment.

Exhausted, slightly burnt out, slightly irritated because it only takes one fucking idiot to fuck the entire course of traffic up. It usually takes a special kinda idiot. It’s exactly 8:37PM as I have finally…finally entered my home.

What normally takes me a measly 45 minutes to an hour was a never ending nightmare. A grueling commute from the loop. I’m physically disabled but at this rate…my walking speed is that of Usain Bolt in comparison to how painstakingly slow we were riding.

I sigh loudly, reminiscing as I swiftly change out of my sleek white pumas and into something relatively more comfy, fluffier, more pleasant to the touch.

I brew some tea and tap my long acrylics across the marble kitchen counter as I wait for the water to boil and simmer. It’s just somethin’ to do.

Life’s good, but why do people have to be such deranged morons? More importantly…why am I surrounded by the likes of them? Unfathomable, mais c’est la vie.

Today’s the day where I was looking forward to deciphering the new Linkin Park album, bit by bit, lyric by lyric and vocal by vocal.

Let this be a preface though for why I’d rather start with this piece. It’s relevant and it all ties together, I promise.

Have you ever done something out of the kindness of your heart for someone and in return they show you EXACTLY who they are with one swift motion?

We’ve all been there.

Some days we’ve been the instigator and some days the perpetrator. Both ends of the spectrum are widely understood.

In this instance, this occurred over a difference of opinion related to…tipping.

I KNOW, RIGHT?!

Quite the hot topic in a country that is barely holding it together financially, has an outdated system in place to tip instead of…oh, I don’t know…pay people a living wage? Wild concept.

Every brainwashed American will die on the hill that you MUST leave a tip…no matter what. I don’t agree.

See…I think it’s important to fight the system head on if we ever want to see some semblance of a change in the world…that’s how my people did it and as a result, we’re no longer living under the tyranny of Russia’s filthy Doc Martens knock-off (also known as communism).

We’re free and we have no one else but our stubborn rebelliousness to thank for it.

Mind you, I live here so I always make sure to give the gig-economy workers and our fellow service workers a little something every time, no matter how much I’m hurting financially because it is customary, but I still think that when your card is on the table and you’re the one fronting the bill…the autonomy of how much you choose to tip is at your own discretion and yours only.

Imagine my absolute shock when the cheap leather friend (and I will explain why I am referring to cheap and not faux in this instance) that I had invited over to join me on this rock n roll quest to the United Center for the premier performance of Linkin Park with the vocals of Emily Armstrong, leapt…yes…PHYSICALLY LEAPT FROM HIS SEAT TO SNATCH THE CHECK I JUST SIGNED.

Not a smart move on his part because he unleashed a fury that I haven’t felt since the passing of my father.

This man LEAPT from his seat to snatch a check I was paying for because he didn’t agree with the amount of tip I had left. To save everyone the suspense...I tipped 10% and much more than what I had budgeted for, but still did.

Then, he proceeds to comment how 'I'm an exceptionally low tipper.'

HE PHYSICALLY LEAPT OUT OF HIS SEAT TO HAVE A TUG OF WAR BETWEEN ME AND THE PAPER MACHE CHECK.

He ripped the check apart and then…like an idiot…is asking me if there was another one.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen more red than I have at that very moment.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

He gas lights me into thinking that this is my fault.

“No, what the ACTUAL fuck do you think you’re doing? Where do you get off? And who the FUCK do you think you are to physically leap at me to assert your perceived dominance?”

At this point, he’s asking me if we’re ok.

Ok?

Ok?!

We’ve never been further from ok and closer to the station of I will FUCK YOU UP in a split second.

“You don’t ever leap at a woman like that. EVER. I don’t care what your intention is. I don’t care that you think that you have some kind of higher authority. YOU ARE NOT PHYSICALLY LEAPING AT A WOMAN FOR A FUCKING DIFFERENCE OF OPINION.”

Many were left wondering, myself included, why I just didn’t make the bill his responsibility. In retrospect, I should have cancelled my transaction and should have left his cheap, smellin’ ass with the bill.

He will forever be remembered as the cheap leather friend because cheap leather smells like a dead fish from a mile away. He's dead to me. Cheap leather is also indiscernible so from a distance it looks like the real thing, but then you approach it closer and it’s…plastic and of course…it’s tacky.

I was in shock, I couldn’t believe how something like this could trigger me so hard, but it did. I noticed both of my hands shaking. Where have I seen this before? After all, the body keeps the score, it remembers. I try to snap out of my shock, now mixing with anger and resentment, but I notice his pretentious dumb ass with a calculator and a pen like he’s actually calling the shots.

So as not to get arrested, I got up and I left him there.

Bottom line is this...whether you agree with me on this concept or not...it’s disrespectful to comment on people’s ability to tip. It’s disrespectful to think that it’s ok that you can leap at a woman in an effort to spook her. It’s absolutely gut wretching to think that he still is probably sitting somewhere thinking that he did the right thing and will probably do it again in effort to show that he is somewhat more generous than he actually is in real life.

Fun fact: True altruism isn’t measured by monetary value and how much you tip your waiter, but how you treat your friends who are there for you no matter what…and this motherfucker crossed the line.