Prompt Fiction

Fiction: Offended

Writing Prompt:
Write about an argument between two people. Your definition of people can be as loose as you want it to be.

Brace yourselves, this is edgy stuff. 🙂

By the way, this is fictional and didn’t really happen.

Or did it? 😉

“Yeah! Hang on a sec honey, let me check my emails.”

Karen curled a leg under her and sat down in her brown, and slightly stained, computer chair. She clicked on her Yahoo email box and was surprised to see five messages from someone called LabelGrl. She clicked on the oldest first.

“Hi Karen! Love your blog! Look, I have a question. Could you sign onto your Yahoo Messenger account so we can talk?”

“How did this girl know about my Messenger account?” Karen mumbled under her breath. She proceeded to check the remaining four messages but they all asked the same thing, only the way it was asked changed slightly.

“Uh, okay. Sure, I’ll bite.” Karen signed onto her account and proceeded to check the rest of her messages. She had just clicked on the second one when she received an IM from LabelGrl.

LabelGrl: “Hi Karen!”

Karen arched a brow and typed back, “Hey LabelGrl. What’s up?”

LabelGrl: “Yeah, thanks for signing on. Look, I have a question concerning the video bit you posted today.”

Put on Your Mom Jeans
Originally uploaded by Midwest Jenn

“The … what?” Karen asked her computer monitor as she minimized the chat window and looked at her blog. Was LabelGrl talking about the “Who Owns a Pair of Mom Jeans” entry?

Karen: “Um, okay.”

LabelGrl: “The thing is … why did you post it?”

Karen blinked and typed her response. “Because I thought it was funny.”

LabelGrl: “To whom?”

Karen bit back a grin and was secretly impressed that LabelGrl used whom instead of who. “Well, I thought it was funny.”

LabelGrl: “So you think fat women are funny.”

Karen: “What in the world are you talking about?”

LabelGrl: “That video implies that women have to have a nine-inch zipper in order to get jeans over their fat asses.”

Karen thought about that for a moment before nodding at the screen. “And …?”

LabelGrl: “And you thought that was appropriate to post on your blog?”

Karen: “It’s a Saturday Night Live skit, yeah, I thought it was funny. Saturday Night Live cracks me up.”

LabelGrl: “Well, I didn’t appreciate it.”

Karen: “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

LabelGrl: “Take it off.”

Karen: “Take what off.” She knew what she was asking; she just couldn’t believe she was asking it.

LabelGrl: “The skit. Take it off your blog. It’s hateful and derogatory.”

Karen: “Let me get this straight … you’re asking me to remove something from my own blog because you didn’t like it?”

LabelGrl: “Yes.”

Karen: “Look. I’m sorry you found the bit offensive, but SNL has a reputation for being edgy and a tad tacky and though this piece is certainly not the most flattering to moms, I still think it was funny because in some ways, it’s true.”

LabelGrl: “So, you ARE making fun of fat people!”

Karen sighed at the screen and continued to type. “No, I think the skit was mainly making fun of moms and their fashion choices. I really don’t think it had anything to do with a size of a woman’s ass.”

LabelGrl: “So now you’re making fun of moms.”

Karen: “I think you’re putting words into my mouth. No, I’m not making fun of moms. I’ve caught myself falling into this same trap. Hell, I’ve even wore the vest they advertised at the end of the skit!”

LabelGrl: “I’m disappointed, Karen. I really liked your blog and you’ve disappointed me.”

Karen: “I’m truly sorry to hear that, LabelGrl. I know SNL stuff doesn’t appeal to everyone.”

LabelGrl: “I’m not the only one disappointed, Karen. There are lots of bloggers who think you take your humor too far.”

Karen: “Oh?”

LabelGrl: “Yeah, so if you want to continue receiving traffic from (such-and-such) blogroll, I suggest you remove that offensive skit immediately.”

Karen couldn’t resist asking the burning question, “Or … what?”

LabelGrl: “You’ll lose readers.”

Karen: “And that’s okay.”

LabelGrl: “What! How can you say that? Don’t you care?”

Karen: “Of course I care but I’m not going to change my personality every five minutes to accommodate a certain type of crowd, nor do I plan on censoring what I do post, or do not post on my blog. I’m truly sorry if this skit offended you, but I simply posted something that I thought was funny and that I thought other readers might find funny, too. The whole purpose of my blog is to make people laugh and share a bit of my boring, mundane life. That’s it. I’m not doing this to generate hits or gain popularity.”

LabelGrl: “I think it was a bitchy thing to do.”

Karen: “I’m sensing you have issues. I’ve said I was sorry, it’s not like I made the stupid thing myself. I’m simply a messenger.”

LabelGrl: “I DO NOT HAVE ISSUES! I’m only speaking as a concerned reader.”

Karen: “And I appreciate your concern, really. And again, I’m sorry you were offended. But I’m not taking it off.”

LabelGrl: “Fine. I’m never visiting your blog again.”

Karen stopped typing her response as soon as she noticed LabelGrl sign off. “I didn’t mean to make anyone mad.”

“What’s going on?” Karen’s husband said over her shoulder.

“I made a reader mad because of an SNL skit I posted about mom jeans.” She brought up the offending post and sat back so her husband could watch it.

He laughed. “It’s funny.”

“That’s what I thought!”

“And true,” he said.

She blinked up at him. “Do you think so?”

“Yeah. A lot of women DO have fat asses and wear unflattering, frumpy clothes after having kids.”

“Wait a minute,” Karen got out of her computer chair and faced her husband. “You try pushing an 8 pound baby through the opening the size of a straw and think …”

He held up his hands to fend off her temper. “I’m just saying …”

“I know what you’re saying,” she snapped back. Suddenly, she didn’t find the Mom Jean’s skit very funny either.


Reflections: My Parents’ Day Job

From time to time, I’ll be recording thoughts and events from my childhood. These memories are prompted from the Reflections from a Mother’s Heart – Your Life Story in Your Own Words. I plan on filling this book out one of these days to pass onto my children. I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds the lives of our parents fascinating. It’s weird to think of my parents as children and it’s really fun to hear stories about their past, how they met, etc. If my children read about my past, perhaps they will understand me just a little better.


Where did your father go to work every day and what did he do?

I don’t remember the name of the place my dad used to work, but I remember the building vividly. He was a TV repairman, he worked in electronics and he was quite good at it. He had books with circuit explanations and all kinds of complicated looking equations and mathematical questions and I was quite proud of how smart he was.

The building he worked in was a small, brick building on a corner lot in the middle of town. The shop was not located in a very “good” part of town and I think that’s my really first experience being around African Americans. It never really bothered me, it was just different being around so many people who didn’t look like me. (we didn’t have very many African American students in my schools).

Dad worked for someone, but the name escapes me. It seemed like it was just him and his boss that worked at the shop, but I could be wrong there. I remember walking into the shop and being overwhelmed with the metallic burning smell as they smoldered wires together. The shop was littered with TV, radios and VCRs. I remember there being TVs everywhere. Most of them had been gutted or were in the process of being worked on so tubes and wires were hanging out of many.

It seemed like dad worked ALL the time. But he had to. Mom was a stay-at-home mom, for which I’m most grateful for now, so we didn’t have a lot of money. My parents are money wizards and it didn’t seem as though we really went without too often. I do remember going to garage sales A LOT, but other than that, I didn’t really feel like a “poor” child until I got to middle and high school.

Dad had a shop in the basement of our house, too. He spent quite a bit of time down there working on TVs and various other electronic gadgets. My dad is quite an expert at circuits and electronics. In fact, he has written nearly 20 courses (could be more) for a school in New York. He’s highly intelligent and very logical.

Solder is still a comforting smell to me and every time I smell it, I think of dad.

How did your mother spend her day?

Mom was a stay-at-home mother. She was like the perfect 50’s type mother. She cooked for us, she made us clothes, she cleaned, she ran us places, mom was ALWAYS there. She bailed me out of so many things I can’t even begin to tell you.

I’ll never forget this one time though. It was when I was in the sixth grade. Ms. Roberts, my sixth grade teacher, had assigned a map of the United States. It was the size of two poster boards side-by-side and we had to cut out all of the states, color them different colors, locate their capitals and then glue all of the pieces, like a giant jigsaw puzzle, onto the poster boards. My best friend, Debbie, and I procrastinated and the night before it was due, we panicked. I think that was the time period that Debbie lived with us for a while (she was having domestic problems) and we begged mom to help us with our projects. We literally stayed up all night and worked on them. In fact, I was so tired, that I made a huge mistake and glued some pieces in the wrong places. I was about ready to give up and accept the “F” that I deserved anyway, when mom, being the creative and crafty person she is, came up with a solution. She fixed it. I still, to this day don’t know how she did it, but she cut that sucker in two and pasted it back together again. It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job. I think I ended up getting an “A” on the project, but I knew, even then, I didn’t deserve it. Mom should have let me get an “F.” I think one of the reasons I got the good grade is because Ms. Roberts liked me.

Did she have a job or do volunteer work outside of the home?

The only job I remember mom having was being a telephone operator. She worked evenings and I hated not having her there. In fact, it caused so much stress on the family not having her around that she finally quit – the money simply wasn’t worth the heartache it was causing and I knew mom was terribly unhappy being away from her family.

Mom was HEAVY into PTA. This used to embarrass me to death at the time, but now I really appreciate the fact that she was around the school. There was something cool in hearing other kids call mom, “Karen’s mom” and seeing her face in the hallways. She helped out in the cafeteria, too. When mom was involved we always had the best homeroom parties. Mom always went all out, making all sorts of delicious goodies and making cool stuff for the kids to take home. I was very proud of her for making so many kids happy. I was very fortunate to have a mother who was always there, who had ENDLESS patience with me and who still loves me unconditionally.