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The Swear Jar

  I was sure my ears were bleeding.

I was sitting in the waiting area of a local mechanic shop, innocently getting a new bulb put in my left rear brake light, when the words coming from a back office hit the fan.

Fuck this, and fuck that, and fuckin', fuckin', fuckin'.

I felt assaulted.

Violated.

There I was, a paying customer, minding my own business, reading a book on my tablet, patiently waiting, when someone might as well have clobbered me on the head.

That's how shocking and disturbing it was.

I didn't say anything; just glanced up and at the woman at the reception desk.

She was nonplussed.

I guess this happens all the time.

I had heard it during a previous visit while in the same waiting area.  

Sounded like the same male voice.

Should I say anything?

I didn't.

I let it slide.

A few days later as I was entering a grocery store, some construction workers were putting up a scaffolding to do some work on the exterior.

And there it was again.

One of the workers had to throw a fuck or two in here and there, describing something which I definitely felt did not need that type of adjective.

He was a large, gruff looking fella with a big beard and hard hat; I decided he didn't need my dirty look, but I was giving it to him in my head.

Do I have the right to be offended?

Why do I feel bad for being offended?

When I worked at a certain real estate office a few years ago, I would be working in my cute little corner office, when all of a sudden a fuck this and fuck that and motherfucking everything would float down the hall and through my open door.

It happened on a regular basis; my ears pained from the unnecessary verbiage.

One time I actually went down the hall and politely asked them to please stop swearing so much, as I had clients and a child in my office.

They apologized and closed their door.

That real estate team finally, thankfully, relocated to another building.

At a Christmas party many years ago, my ears still bleed thinking about it, the wife, no less, of a former colleague was swearing up a blue streak.

A harsh, deep and loud voice, she was fucking this and fucking that and what the fucking all over the party.

It definitely fucked up the party for me.

And I get it; swearing is cool, it's the "in" thing to do.

Heck, even Taylor Swift has started using swear words in her songs.

Any show on HBO these days features it in their script; talk show hosts vent swear words on the regular.

It doesn't make it okay; it just seems to "normalize" it.

I read recently that a study found that "successful" people use profanity a lot.

Is that what makes them successful?

Does Elon Musk use swear words in his office meetings?

Oh I get that swear words certainly drive the point home; definitely get the idea across that it's "serious".

In fact, it becomes such a comfortable part of their vocabulary that it's just what it is.

My own younger brother, god rest his soul, also used profanity in his vocabulary.

A lot.

In fact, he asked me, when I was working as a news anchor at the local tv station, how I did NOT let a swear word slip out now and then when I was reading on air.

I told him it was just not "me"; I didn't use profanity in my normal, every day conversation and so it never came out on air.

But I am not completely without fault.

I too, I will admit, have let out a blue streak once in awhile.

Okay, every time I have a problem with my computer; or there's an idiot driving in front of me; or the Universe does not go my way on a particular day.

And it's not pretty.

I try to make sure I am alone; no one else is within earshot.

Although I can't always calculate that when I am working on my computer and something goes terribly wrong.

And it's not just the "F" word; there's the "C" word and the "MF" word and a few religious references and everything in between.

As I said, it's not pretty,

But it is spoken with pure rage; and I have to say it makes me feel VERY good afterwards, as if I have vented and that is THAT.

The physical feel of swearing when one is angry is just pure bliss.

And I am not denying that it sure helps get rid of those bitter cobwebs and total  frustration in a heartbeat.

It has its place, and it has its time.

And regular, ordinary, routine conversation is not it.

Especially when in public, or there are other people within earshot.

I realize it makes people feel like they are bigshots; or cool or powerful or almighty or untouchable.

When really, they are not.

They are just little, regular, small, everyday people TRYING to be a bigshot, cool or powerful.

Offending others doesn't seem to me to be the way to do that, but whatever.

What will I do the next time I hear somebody use the "F" word in a public domain?

Not sure yet.

I hope I can have the intestinal fortitude to say something; at the mechanic's shop, for instance, perhaps I can politely ask the receptionist to please ask that person to tone it down and not swear within my earshot.

I don't know.

I can't promise anything.

But I feel damn good that I have vented.


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