Right Right, Sure Sure

I wonder where the impulse to be right comes from. I suppose there are a lot of possibilities, and I would assume they vary person to person. There may be people who truly don't care if they are right or not, but I'm having trouble thinking of any.

We all have that memory of the time we fought a little too hard for something we were a little less than half sure was right. And yet, something compelled us to do it. Is it a power thing? The need to be respected? Why did you need to be the expert about what Alec Baldwin said in that one interview all of the sudden? What made you do that?

For me (I think) it's mostly the need to validate my memory. I used to have a flawless one. It's a little hazier now, which is kind of nice, because I shrug a lot more and am like, "Yeah, okay, could be, idk, pass the Oreos?"But when I know what I know, it seems wrong to not do what I can to make the truth heard. No matter how dumb it is?

I've mentioned the mantra of my favorite college nomad Stripes: "Do you love yourself enough to be more happy than right?" There's a lot of healing in that. Sometimes, just be what you are, and make what you are happy. Yet, Right can't fly out the window.

You know, people used to be wrong and not know it forever. Pre-smartphones. "When did Good Will Hunting win the Oscar?" "1999." "That's way too late. It was '97 or earlier." "No, it never won the Oscar." "Huh, well, I don't know. Wanna call someone and ask?" "No, you idiot, we're playing basketball, and that's way more fun that trivia minutia. SLAM DUUUNK."

Maybe this new possibility of fact-finding will breed people who learn not to fight as hard because facts are in pockets. So that could be nice.

Bossy

The term "bossy" has really exploded in feminist culture and writings lately. People be like, "That is an inappropriate term for women." (Mainly because, like "bitch," "bossy" is never applied to men since assertive male leaders are just called, like, "president.") Meanwhile, Nicki Minaj and Kelis are making it their own: I am bossy. I am a bitch. That's my right. Worship me. Donna on Parks & Rec compliments or degrades Leslie via Twitter by alternating hashtags of #BitchBoss and #BossBitch.

My jury is still out, but the debate resurfaced a memory I had long buried. It was the summer before 7th grade and my gang of gal pals had spent the day riding bikes and hanging out in various parks. We ended up at someone's house, and I thought it would be fun to do some project. I honestly don't remember what. Something with writing. Everyone was being sort of lazy and not listening--understandable because it was summer vacation. Anyway, the three girls eventually sort of left the room one by one and announced they weren't going to listen to me because I was being bossy.

How was I being bossy? I wanted to know. Tell me what was bossy. I was offering everyone creative equality. "You just were." But I just had an idea of something to do. We were all bored. So I literally found a dictionary, read the definition of bossy, and asked, "What in here? Give me facts."

I don't think they were necessarily wrong, but I know I didn't get an answer, and I'm pretty sure I biked home and spent the night alone. In my middle school gang (there were about eight of us, thick as greek yogurt) people always made fun of me for saying "Can you give me an example?" Like, "Alice, you're always so blah blah blah." To which I would reply, "Give me an example." I still do this, and, come to think of it, it has frustrated people my whole life. That could be "pushy" (one of the definitions of "bossy.") But I'm honestly not trying to be right. I'm not trying to be "bossy" (whether that is a fair assessment or not). I just want to know.

New York Cab Driver in Summer

The summer after I graduated high school, I went to New York with my friend More. I was trying to save up a significant amount of money that summer in preparation for my first year of college, so I was pretty stingy during the whole trip. IE I brought a bag of apples and string cheese, so I would only have to buy one meal a day. But, I had a very good time and saw a lot of theatre and wondrous NY landmarks.

On departure day, it was my job to pay for the taxi to the airport. The driver didn't speak much English. When we arrived at JFK, the meter said the price of the ride was just under $25 dollars. I got out my wallet, and the driver got out of the car, held out his hand, and said, "Theerty dollar." I had obviously seen the real price, but it totally didn't even cross my mind that the cabbie was lying. I just figured there was some other tax I was unaware of. I had never paid for a cab before. I gave him the $30, and then, knowing you're supposed to tip driver, another eight dollars. He looked confused, and I said, "For tip." He suddenly looked extremely ashamed and gave me back the ten. "No..." he said, looking at the ground.

Oh. And then I got it. He saw two young girls and worried he wasn't going to get a tip, so he lied. When, actually, we had no intention of stiffing him. I was even going to give him a bigger tip than the one he fabricated. And then we took our suitcases and went home.

Fact: It's better to get things the right way.