This morning, I was running late (quelle suprise!) and had to pick up my Dunkin Iced Coffee at the kiosk off the F train (which is exactly as glamorous as it sounds) instead of near my apartment.
I ordered my favorite.
And it rang up as 15 cents less than at my regular place!!! Very exciting.
I was so pleased I left an extra tip, in a feeble attempt to "pay it forward".
Then I took a sip of my coffee.
And it was totally not what I ordered at all.
{sigh}
I stood in the corner, by the napkins, and pondered my next move. Should I politely let them know this wasn't the correct coffee, and ask for a new one? The kiosk is SO busy. Hundreds and hundreds of 9-5ers like me hurriedly get and go from this Dunkin every morning. It's frantic. People bark orders and grab and don't say thank you. I'm sure it's not really a place to work where one feels appreciated. And I don't want to be an asshole. It's just coffee, right?
I took another sip.
Hazlenut. Not my favorite, but pretty tasty, and maybe a nice change of pace. Gotta mix it up every once in a while.
So I decided to keep this coffee and consider myself "shaking things up."
I really hate confrontation. I mean, HATE it. P used to kind of bully me about how strenuously I worked to avoid fighting with him. And when he did manage to finally pick a fight with me, he was completely shocked. I thought maybe our relationship might be healthier if we discussed things like adults, or simply agreed to disagree on things of lesser importance. This doesn't mean I'm not passionate, or that I don't care about certain things. I care very deeply. I enjoy political discourse. I support both human and animal rights organizations. I'm pro-choice, pro-marriage equality, and care deeply about men and women in uniform. BUT I also acknowledge there are always other sides to every disagreement and think they should at least be heard. I don't have to agree, but I think it's my obligation to at least know where the other side is coming from, so my opinion can be informed as possible.
Sometimes, though, there are battles you cannot step away from. And when I choose to throw down, like Cee-Lo Green suggests, I fight to win.
(I have this outfit at home.)
During grad school, there was an instance where I had to fight to win. And in most cases, I think "fight to win" simply translates as "stand up for yourself." In grad school, we had a guest lecturer who was supposed to help us learn the finer points of script evaluation. She gave us a film script, and told us to write a 2 page summary of the plot, and then our opinion of if the script were marketable - is it something a studio would want to produce?
The script was ABYSMAL. A schmaltzy, offensive, harlequin romance set in Africa. My summary was too long - that I freely admit. I found it hard to not mention so many of the terrible plot points! What about when they made love in the rain on the rocks! (ouch.) I also said, no, a movie studio would not be interested in producing this movie. The script is maudlin. The romance is laughable and forced. The action is unrealistic AND historically wobbly at best. The characters are barely fleshed out, and you'd never get a good actor to sign on. Historical romance can work! Just not this script. No way, no how.
"Well" huffed the guest lecturer "At one point Angelina Jolie was interested."
"I think you could star-fuck this into the ground and it would still bomb." I answered, truthfully.
There was a cold silence.
"A friend of mine wrote it, and there was great interest from many parties." she huffed, and our meeting was over.
HOLY UNPROFESSIONAL, BATMAN!!!
So you're telling me that you brought a script you obviously have a very personal attachment to, and told me to judge it? What's your damage?!? I couldn't believe it. It was the greatest academic DUH on planet earth. And because I didn't like it, she was coming after me.
She failed me on the assignment and I went on academic probation.
I met with my advisor the next afternoon. At that point I realized that even though they'd never fail me out of school entirely, this horrible guest lecturer had just deep-sixed my chances of getting honors for my degree. And I was mad.
"THIS IS BULLSHIT!" I screamed before my advisor, a little man who looked like an egg with glasses, could get a single word out. He opened his mouth...
"NO! YOU LISTEN TO ME!!" I stopped my shouty capitals "She gave me a script and asked for my opinion. I gave it to her. The fact that she brought something that was obviously very personal is unprofessional on her part. I can't be failed for an opinon. I will not back down. I will fight you all tooth and nail until someone realizes that this is a crock of shit."
"May I speak?" squeaked the egg with glasses. I nodded. "I understand that what she did was very unprofessional. I've come to a compromise. Write another script summary for her. Yours was too long last time. Keep it to 2 pages, and we'll get you back on the right track."
I was handed yet another script and sent on my way. THIS ONE WAS EVEN WORSE THAN THE FIRST ONE!!!!! Oh my God. I remember laughing so hard and reading excerpts of it to friends in disbelief. It was about a father who lost his favorite son to an auto-erotic asphyxiation accident (fun for the whole family, right? Studios LOVE these kind of movies) and...oh it's just too bad. I can't even. So bad.
But I did it. I wrote a 2.5 (so much badness to cram in!) page summary of the script, and my scathing evaluation. I would not say the script was good when it wasn't. She might not like it, but when I need to be a professional, I call the shots like I see 'em. I believe in discourse. I believe in compromise. But I also believe that sometimes you need to stand your ground and tell your opposition that they suck.
After all that? I was taken off academic probation (and got smashed that night and hilariously drunk-dialled my mom long distance in celebration) and graduated on time, though without honors.
You know what else?
She was never asked back as a lecturer to that school again.
And neither of those movies ever got made.
