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You know that moment in time when you feel like you’ve done something you can never take back? The realization that there are no do-overs, or second chances, to change the idiot-ness of what you have just said or done.
As Murphy’s Law would have it – it wasn’t until after the elapsed extra few seconds that I was given to retract my email that I realized the sinking feeling in my gut was just the beginning of the fallout to come. The consequences were too horrifying to mention – in fact, I’m still licking my wounds.
There have been several moments in my life that I have experienced the terror that accompanies a bad decision. I’m fairly positive that I am not the only one – after all, that’s why they created the “cancel” button.
I recall several years ago being told I’d receive a call back regarding the purchase of something I really
wanted. I waited for days with no return call, so I called the person back only to get their long-winded message machine. I left a voicemail asking them to please return my call since I really wanted the limited quantity item.
After leaving my message I began ranting about them while using a few choice words. I felt better getting the frustration off my chest, until I heard a beep that came from my cell phone earpiece. Good Lord, I never completely hung up leaving my entire rant for them to hear and replay over and over again if they wanted to. I was mortified. Needless to say, I never got a call back or the item I wanted, which was a miniature glow worm.
Another such incident occurred when I called a friend that I was mad at while she was at work. I kinda let my thoughts rip through my mouth while her home answering machine listened quietly. After hanging up, I felt bad. Since I had a key to her apartment for emergencies, I went over and let myself in – I considered it an emergency.
I hit the play button and listened to each message one by one – she had 126. When I got to my despicable rant, I hit the delete button and left. I felt relieved. Later that night, she called me about the message, so I asked what she was talking about. She repeated it word for word. Apparently, I deleted it, but didn’t permanently delete it, so she still heard every word. She has since removed the letter “r” from friend and just refers to me as a fiend. She also asked for her key back.
My Uncle Vinny regretted the words that billowed from his beer and snack hole about a year ago at a street festival.
Apparently he was in the middle of a crowd when he yelled over all the noise to his bartender buddy, “Car bomb.” His friend knew he was telling him to make the drink for him by the same name but law enforcement saw it differently. He was arrested for inciting a stampede. He also had to go to court for damages as a result. The judge ordered him to pay the event organizers what they lost in monies after the streets cleared out seven hours earlier than the time stated on the event poster. What a dope.
I have discovered that venting frustration to Alexa garners no ill effects as artificial intelligence doesn’t have feelings. However, that practice is not effective in training oneself to control bad behavior.
We all say things born out of anger or frustration but perhaps when we feel the urge to speak we should just shove Cheetos in the hole – well, at least me.
Anngee Quinones-Belian of Murphy is a staff correspondent for the Cherokee Scout. Her humor column runs every other week. Email her at anngeeq@gmail.com.