Subjective and Objective

The past two weeks have been pretty rough. I had my wisdom teeth out, and it wound up being a bigger hassle than I originally bargained for. Despite following every instruction on the piece of paper my dentist handed over to my fiancé’, I still wound up with dry sockets. I could never properly describe how painful or awful the feeling is, and it doesn’t lessen for days after. If I were a member of the X-Men, I’d be a hybrid of Professor X—able to sense what’s about to come and hyper-sensitive to the thoughts of those around me—with a mix of Wolverine thrown in. But broken bones have healed faster than this wisdom tooth has, and the slow process hurt my pride where my superhuman strength and healing were concerned.

I haven’t even been talking like myself  the last week. It’s the pain killers. They’ve got me sounding like a half-wit.

Now obviously I’ve tried to avoid being active, but it feels impossible. I’m not complaining about the schedule I chose for myself, but it was tough to manage it while taking pain medication that makes you fall asleep constantly. When I was able to rest at home, I was on the couch watching bits and pieces of movies. Most of them were terribly written plus I was groggy, but at least I understood what was happening. Unlike this guy who I’m about to describe. The following is a story told verbatim.

Mark* goes to my Church and is a nice, quiet man who seems to be a bit of an outcast though I could never see why. He’s friendly, talkative, and always timely with encouragement. He waits for an answer after he says “How are you?” and notices little things like a new dress or freshly done hair. This past weekend he seemed slightly more agitated than normal, but said he’d had a long week. And then, like he normally does, he filled the time while we were both waiting for our prayer session to start with unimportant chatter just to make conversation.

“You seen any good movies?” he asked in a manner of tone that’s considered humorous and not rude when you hail from New York or New Jersey. I opened my sore mouth to answer him, but he answered his own question with, “Yeah, I saw one, but I didn’t like it.”  I tilted my head to the side as if to say ‘Why is that?’ and he got the non-verbal gesture right away.

“Well,” he continued, “it didn’t make sense. ‘Be a Good Man’? ‘Be a God Man’?” He looked at me, waiting for me to acknowledge the film. I shook my head no.

“It was called ‘Be a Good Man’ but it didn’t have any men in it. It was all women. Just women talking about men. Didn’t have enough of a God aspect in it either, not for me. I didn’t understand why the movie was telling me to be good man when the men were all bad. And that guy who kept coming up on the screen, what was he supposed to be, my conscience?”

I listened to Mark and had no idea what movie he was talking about, but something in his body language looked…black. As in African-American. Black…men…black…women…movie…”How To Think Like a Man”!

When I said this out loud Mark looked over at me as if I were the strange one and mumbled, “Oh is that what it was called?” I explained that the little man who kept popping up on the screen was Steve Harvey, the author of the book the movie was based on, and that it was a movie commenting on how men approach relationships, geared towards women.

“Yeah well, I’ll tell you what else I didn’t like and everybody said it was good…that other movie.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the kids and they’re on the train. You know, they’re traveling on the train and they’re scared. You didn’t see it?”

“I don’t know what movie you’re talking about.”

“The train! They’re on the train, and there’s an army coming after ‘em.”

I let Mark go on for about another two minutes with absolutely no idea what he was describing. He kept emphasizing the train, and that the kids on it were frightened, and mentioned that “the famous guy from tv” was also on the train. Finally, he mentioned something about them eating.

“THE HUNGER GAMES, Mark? Are you trying to describe “Hunger Games”? Because if you are, I want you to know that you just gave THE worst explanation in the HISTORY of film-making if you’re describing the “Hunger Games”.

He started to speak again, but I cut him off.

“And you—you do realize that they actually got OFF of the train, right? Like, they got off, and a LOT of other things happened, NAMELY an entire movie based around something called THE HUNGER GAMES.”

Mark probably won’t seek me out for chit-chat this weekend.

Was it harsh? Yes.

So I’d like to apologize to Mark. Those were the pain killers talking, not me. I would never talk that way.


One thought on “Subjective and Objective

  1. that is the worst pain i had dry sockets when i got mine our over 20yrs ago and i can still tell you about the pain. awful so glad you are better .love you mimi

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