With Neighbors Like These, Who Needs Enemies

I hate when people (women) try to manipulate me by telling lies and stories made up of lies to try and convince me to change my mind after I’ve already said no about something. First of all, no one is better at this than my mother. She is the master of fake ass storytelling. I’m talking years and decades of crafted history completely orchestrated to fit some narrative so she could gaslight me and manipulate me. 

So bitch, let me tell you something. You’re going to have to try harder to fool me. I already told you I don’t want to go to this market tomorrow. I already told you no. Yet you continue trying to convince me by turning every answer to every question you ask me into something that fits your campaign on why we need to go to this market. If you’re suddenly flush with cash and that’s what’s making you want to go, great. Save the money for when I actually want to go, or else go by yourself. 

For example, after our walk, I stopped in the grocery store to get some chocolate. I wanted a sweet treat; before I walked in she reminded me I wanted to buy some gelatin. But as I went to collect the gelatin, I remembered I was out of chia seeds too, so I decided to wait and buy both together where I get the seeds.

When we got back to her house, because I helped carry all her compras from the mercado, she asked if I bought the gelatin. I tell her no because I also didn’t have chia and could wait until I got both. Her response? Oh well, you should buy the chia at this market because there it only costs Q15 a pound (allegedly) versus twice the price to buy it at the mercado closer to us. A complete fabrication if you ask me. I once again declined the invitation and went home. 

It happened again yesterday and today. A lady died in the neighborhood, and I don’t care for funerals to begin with. I certainly am not inclined to attend those for whom I barely knew. I have better things to do with my time. So imagine my frustration when she asks me if the council president is going. My neighbor is nothing if not opportunistic.

Unfortunately, at first, the council president did plan to attend, so I was going to be forced to go as a show of solidarity for the community. However, as with all things Chapin, plans were half-assed, and by late afternoon, the details had changed, and it now looked like a visit to the funeral home in the afternoon instead of the morning would be in order. 

I passed that message along to my neighbor that we would not be going to the funeral home in the morning. And that I would let her know when the council president planned to go. She then tells me no, because by the afternoon, she would be buried. She does want to go in the morning, and she is going to go by bus. I was like ok. So she presses me to ask if I still want to go in the morning. I don’t want to go unless I am forced. Of course I don’t want to go. 

So then she escalates the whole thing cause she’s bitter that I’m not going by turning it around and turning it into a reverse psychology thing by telling me I don’t have to go. Sorry, again. You have to wake up pretty early in the morning to pull a fast one on me. So I tell her, gee, thanks, I know I don’t have to go. And then she starts justifying why she is going. And then she nags me if I absolutely have to go with the council president. Like, if I had another option, I would opt to go with her instead.

Then she is explaining that she and the council president will go because they all grew up together. They were contemporaries in the neighborhood. I don’t care. Why can’t she get it through her head that I don’t want to go? She mentions the whole thing about them growing up together again. I must have told her thrice that if I had the option to stay home, I would stay home. And each time she is telling me, well then stay home. Bitch, I know. 

First of all, this whole plan to go to this woman’s viewing was her idea. Being opportunistic, she called me to ask if the council president was going. Probably because she wanted a ride. And now that the plan has changed, she is still trying to figure out how she can convince me to change my mind. Or worse, guilt me into going. Again, gonna have to come up with something better. I’ve been guilted by the best, and she’s not even in the same league as my mother. How irritating. 

So that’s the thing. I don’t like being lied to. I don’t like being manipulated. And worse, I hate when the attempts to do either are transparent as glass. It will only serve to piss me off.