By my own definition, I am not a bitch. I believe that a bitch is a truly mean-spirited person who enjoys inflicting emotional pain and suffering on others. By many other people’s definition though, I’m a HUGE bitch. I’ve been called a bitch by random strangers, friends, guys, lab partners, TAs, and even my own mother. The context they use the word “bitch” in, however, makes me really frickin happy, because their reasoning for labeling me as such is what makes me, well, me. That sounds really bad, but I actually love it. Here are 12 reasons why:
1. I can’t stand incompetent people. You think that having a deep conversation in the middle of the doorway is convenient for the 11,000 other people who go this school? It’s not. It’s 1:00 in the afternoon, and you take 10 minutes to order a sandwich at the most popular lunch spot on campus as if you’re the only one in line? You’re not. Don’t worry though, I’ll always be here to remind you. Who knew that efficiency is the same thing as bitchy?
2. When asked, I give my honest opinion. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to. Maybe it’s because I value honesty and trustworthiness over almost everything else, but if you ask me for my opinion, I’m gonna give it to you straight. Would you rather look fat in that outfit than look hot in something else? I’m more than willing to help you find something that looks hot; I’ll even lend you a shirt of my own! I guess wanting to help people look good is rude.
3. I say what’s on my mind. If you show me a new song and it sucks, I’ll letcha know. Same goes for movies, TV shows, types of food, etc. If you say something that’s offensive, dumb, or wildly inaccurate, I’ll letcha know. Why would you want to go around saying things that make you sound stupid? You don’t! That’s what I’m here for.
4. I’m selfish when I need to be. I spent hours on this assignment and you want me to just “text u a quick pic”? Hell fucking no. I’m a student in the most competitive program at this university, and I’m not just going to give you my work because you value getting high and watching Planet Earth over your education.
5. I refuse to like your third Instagram this week about how happy you are to have finally met your Big. News flash: no one cares. No one will ever care (except for your mom, maybe, because she lives vicariously through you). Your Big probably doesn’t even care. Apparently, choosing not to indulge in your excessive narcissism = bitchy.
6. I have no problem calling people out on their foolishness. My friends learn very quickly not to over-exaggerate when telling me stories. You didn’t almost get molested a homeless man; he shook his paper cup of coins and asked for some spare change. He even called you ma’am! You didn’t “literally almost get hit by an 18-wheeler”. It was a good 8 seconds away. Also, you were jaywalking so you almost deserve to get hit.
7. I refuse to be disrespected. Last semester, I had a douchebag for a lab partner. During the first lab, he would read out each step of the lab then look at me and wait for me to complete the step while he watched. He and his friend, who was conveniently stationed right next to us, would then giggle like schoolgirls as I did what he told me to do. During the second lab, however, I reminded him that I actually DO know how to read, and that lab would go a hell of a lot faster if helped me out. He didn’t like that.
8. I couldn’t care less about your opinion. Unless you’re my mom (hi mama) or a very close friend, of course (hi ladies). Besides that, anyone who tries to tell me what to do/wear/say is wasting their breath.
9. I don’t put people (except for Tom Brady) on pedestals. You got an A on that exam? Cool, me too! That’s what you’re supposed to do. You should be proud of your accomplishments, no doubt; I know I am. But like, when you compare your own accomplishments to the dump Tom Brady took today, Tom’s dump will ALWAYS be more impressive. Remember that.
10. I change my mind. I know that we’ve been talking for a while and you seem really nice and I agreed to blow you, but it smells like the shit that I find under my toenails down there. Calling me a bitch for wanting to avoid getting gonorrhea in my mouth doesn’t make me want to keep talking to you. It does, however, make me want to text all of my group chats and let everyone know that your dick smells like ripe gorgonzola cheese.
11. I know how to take complements. If you compliment me on how cute my shirt is, how intelligent the question I asked in class was or how funny I am, there’s a good chance I already know. I’ll accept your compliment with appreciation and class, because that’s just the kind of person I am. The point of giving someone a compliment is to make them feel good. If you don’t want me to feel good, don’t compliment me?! I don’t know, just a thought.
12. I don’t jump through hoops to please people. It’s human nature to want to be liked and accepted by your peers. I’m not sure how natural it is to be willing to bend over backwards for random people in order to be accepted or respected, but if it is, I’m a lot less human than most. The whole “braid my hair or I won’t be your friend anymore” kindergarten bullshit thing is comical to me. If you like me, cool! If not, I literally couldn’t care less, as there are billions of other people on this planet that are just like you who would LOVE to be my friend.