It’s not nice being a jerk, but sometimes it’s funny.

                                                                                                                By Dave Hamby                                                                                                              

              By nature it’s a lot easier for me to be a jerk than it is for me to be a nice guy.   That is, I have to work at being a nice guy.   Being a jerk comes naturally.

              Take, for example, my lunch earlier today.   I had to stand in a very long line and the guy the counter wasn’t taking care of the patrons in a timely fashion.   At least I didn’t think so.   The couple behind me was experiencing the same distress as I was when the guy mused out loud, “I wish there’s some way to make this line shorter or make that counter fellow hurry up.”  

             Well, what popped in my head was for me to begin coughing and hacking, and then after an extended period of doing so for me to say to the guy behind me, “I sure hope this Chinese food is as good as the stuff I had in Peking last week.   Is it hot in here?   It sure seems hot to me.”   I’m reasonably certain everyone within earshot would have come up with some place better to be for lunch.  

             I didn’t do it though, I chose instead to be a nice guy and wait.

              I honestly can’t say I’ve always chosen to do the right thing.   Truth is there was a time in my life when I would have done that what comes so natural to me.  

             I remember once being in my dear old Dad’s bar with my brother Bob.   We were the only three folks in there.   The phone rang and my dad asked me to answer it.  

            “Apache Bar,” I said into the phone.  

             A real sweet lady’s voice asked, “Is Joe there?”  

              Now I knew Joe wasn’t there.   My dad wasn’t named Joe and neither was my brother Bob.   Being a jerk I asked, “Joe who?”  

            “Joe Smith,” the sweet voice replied.  

              “IS THERE A JOE SMITH HERE?” I shouted to Dad and Bob, loud enough to be certain the lady on the phone could hear me.  

              My brother, being as naturally predisposed to being a horse’s behind as I am, shouted back, “WHO IS IT?”  

             “Who is this?” I asked into the phone.  

             “Tell him that it’s his wife, Joy,” the voice said, still sweet, but a little lower in calories that it was just a few seconds before.  

             “IT’S YOUR WIFE!”I shouted to Bob.  

             “TELL HER I’M NOT HERE!” he shouted back.  

              “I’m sorry, he’s not here,” I said into the phone and then hung up.  

               Now I don’t know who Joe Smith is and I really didn’t have any reason to issue as much grief to him as I’m pretty sure he got when he finally made it home that night.   In fact, the only thing I know Joe did wrong in his entire life was not telling his wife where he was that night.  

               I felt bad about what I did to poor old Joe, but only after I had a good laugh with my Dad and my brother Bob at his expense.

              I know what goes around comes around.   I sure had a lot of what I spread around in my life come back to haunt me.   That’s why I always make it a point to do the right thing whenever I can.  

              Sometimes I do the right thing and then get punished for doing so.   I don’t know how many times I’ve paused in traffic to let some jerk in front of me, only to have that person screw around and make me spend a whole extra cycle of traffic lights stuck there behind them.

              “No good deed goes unpunished,” my Dad would always say.   I don’t have a clue how he would know, he never did any good deeds.

              I’ve also had the experience of doing the right thing and in so doing causing some poor fellow a lot of grief.  

              Once a telephone repairman was at my house and when he was done and gone I discovered a whole box of tools that he had left behind.   I figured he’d be back for them in a little while.   These were some very nice tools.   I wrestled with the notion of just keeping them after he didn’t show up for a couple of days.   Instead, I called the phone company.   

               Now anyone who’s ever had to try to communicate with the phone company over the phone knows what a real pain in the neck that is.   It took a lot of effort to explain why I was calling and I got to spend a lot of time listening to some easy music while I was on hold.   Finally I was told he’d be right out to fetch them.  

              I didn’t even get a “Thank you” for my trouble.  

               Instead, what I got was a real glare when the repairman finally showed up.  

              “Do you have any idea of how much trouble I’m in?” he asked.   “I’d already procured another set of tools.   Why on earth didn’t you just keep these?   Now I’ve got to explain to my boss why I’m dumb enough to leave my tools here and how it is I’ve now got another set.”

              I’ve made it a point for quite a number of years now to try not to cause anyone any grief.   It isn’t always the best or fastest way to do what it is you’ want to do, but I’m hoping in doing so my Karma will be such as for me to get in return that what I give.  

              I am still praying for mercy instead of justice, just in case.

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