How To Raise My Ire

 

I moved in June to Cincinnati from Lexington, Kentucky. When I lived in Lexington, I lived next door to a man who told me his wife had burned down his house with all of his possessions. He was a decent neighbor, but he did knock on my door several times asking me why I didn't want sex with him. Apparently it wasn't explained by the fact I have no desire to be with him in any way, in fact he thought I would want to. I don't want to have sex with anybody if I don't want to have sex with anybody. It is that simple.

He called me and asked me today if I would give him my Editor at Ace's phone number so he could call her and get her to print his short story. Before I could even tell him that there's no way she would print a short story, that it would be a better idea to call the Winchester Sun or one of those papers that do run short stories, he hung up on me ... just was a very abrupt about it, and rude. That is no way to get published.

It ought to go without saying that I do not like it when people step on my toes, cross the line, show their chutzpah, push me into a corner and so on. I get my panties in a real bunch when that happens.

It is not the first time someone has asked me to get them into the writing business, more or less. A lady came in to Cheapside about a decade ago, sat next to me, and told me she had just arrived in town. I was reading an Ace Weekly at the time and she asked me about it. I told her I was reading my article.Then she asked me to get her a writing job at Ace, and got mad at me when I told her there was no way I could do that because I had not read anything she'd written.

She then insulted me and told me that I was in a bar by myself on a Friday night, and what else was I doing? I just said no ... my Editor would have a fit and one had to earn the right to be published. 

However she took that even worse than I meant for it to go, and actually wanted me to go outside and have a physical fight with her. I was already having a verbal argument, and at my age, I don't want to have a physical fight with anybody.

Now, my former neighbor wants me to do the same as that lady did. It is surprising how many people want you to turn a corner and put your neck out for them, get yourself in risk of being of being reprimanded -- or worse not ever published again -- only to get their print in front of an editor. An editor is there for a reason, lambchops. An editor edits text that is written for their purpose. An editor doesn't just say yeah sure, send me his short story and I'll print it. It just does not happen that way, lambchops!

Right now, I am going to calm down, put my head on my pillow, cover myself up and pretend I did not get that phone call. I'm also going to pretend I never lived next to someone that selfish and idiotic.

I do ask you, though, to please pray for me, and pray for

Peace,

Kimmy