Emotional Remote Control

I do wish I had one. One with an LCD screen that would tell me which emotion I should be experiencing. Then I could push that button. I would of course have spare batteries at all times…  or I would break into dance at a funeral and then switch to laughter of the maniacal kind.

About four years ago I went to a government run (in this country that’s not a good thing) institution with a friend who had no medical cover – so had to collect meds from this place. We were standing at the counter and the woman behind the glass window had mascara running down her cheeks. I remember looking at her body language and being aware that she was not crying because she was sad, she had obviously been reprimanded or something like that. I smiled at her, and she looked at me like I was the hairiest testicle she had ever seen. It was repulsion.

Being me, that made me laugh. But then she fucked with my happy flow, and instead of passing my friend the meds through the large hatch where they would have fit – she put it in front of the small hatch and watched my friend struggle to pull it through – and some of the meds came out the bag… and he had his arm as far in as it would go and she did nothing to help him. She was doing it because I had laughed…

Now I was just angry. I hate passive aggressive shit. I LOATHE it. I asked her calmly to place it in the large hatch and she straight up ignore me. Being ignored is a HUGE trigger for me. So I said it one more time, but I was already losing grip on what was a rational response and what wasn’t.

I punched the glass. It shattered and having NOT done the maths on what kind of a place we were in – I was not prepared for the immediate wigging out of every psychiatric patient with in a 15 meter radius. I’m talking rocking back and forth, screaming, wailing noise. An assault to my senses. BUt in that state of mind, it was all the chick behind the counter’s fault, and I started to reach for her…

I was satisfied at the look of fear she had as I was being escorted out by some big buff men who also looked more like out patients than anything else…

And then the time at another government hospital, I was ignored by the receptionist. She served the person behind me and didn’t even make eye contact. I slammed the industrial sized stapler on her desk into her head. I never did get what I wanted. I was taken off the premises.

Emotional Remote Control. If only…