Meet my very own troll, BBR

October 04, 2004 | Category:

It happened this morning….

A dark ugly cloud appeared on my screen. What? Who could THAT be?! There! In the ether of the ‘net! Is it a monster? No, it was an IM drive-by from my very first outspoken critic: Bitter Bitch Reader?? (That IS what “BBR” stands for, right?)

Wow.

Does this mean I’ve “arrived”? When I’ve written something that pisses off another human (hey, benefit of the doubt here) SO MUCH that they actually go out of their way to instant message me all about it. And? I’m pretty sure (but not certain) that this person is in no way related to any of my exes.

Unfortunately, I didn’t foresee this occurrence and unthinkingly clicked the little window closed in disgust. Thus the diatribe went *poof*. Oh, NOW you tell me there’s a way to save these things. Dang.

But I am not deterred. Being the kind of woman that thinks of a snappy comeback in the elevator, 5 minutes later - I have this to say in an open response:

Dear BBR,

I can't begin to say how disappointed I am that it was rummage sales that got me the flak. Not Kerry Vs. Bush. Not Afghan courting restrictions. Rummage Sales. Ah, well.

I'm going to be gentle here because you are, as I said, my first troll. That's something for the scrapbooks and I wouldn't want to muddy it all up forcing you to drink from my firehouse of indignation.

Onward, then.

To your point. Yes, I make a good salary. And when my husband isn’t raising our son or studying, he makes a decent wage as a contract systems whore-er, admin. We live within our means, pay for things in cash, save for the future, and are paying down a debt from some bad times not long ago. By making sacrifices, we can do this and still raise Bear at home.

How exactly do you think this good fortune hurts you? Who exactly am I stealing from, being the first in line at a rummage sale on my own time in the cold?

Hey, BBR - answer me this. Why weren’t you in line ahead of me? If it was that important to you, why didn’t you show up when it mattered?

You want to cut ahead of me in line because your life seems harder by some superficial measuring stick that you created out of a website and ceiling wax? Just try. I guarantee you that you will be run off the fairgrounds by a mob so pissed it will make you shiver.

You get your spot in line the way every one of us did. By arriving there, parking, and moving your body over to the door.

That easy.

This is the country of bootstraps and gumption, BBR. Not of entitlements – either by richer or by poorer. You want something? Go get it. No one is stopping you. Certainly not me.

Warmest regards, etc. etc.,
Elizabeth
“The Corporate Mommy”

PS - the words “don’t” and “you’re” are contractions and contain an apostrophe. Leaving out the apostrophe doesn’t (see? apostrophe!) help your case. Personally, I find these things of small matter but your other targets may not be so kind.

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