2001-04-02 - 4:26 p.m.

Mean

My last diary entry was full of sweetness and contentment, and I have to balance that nonsense out. So today I'll talk about a conversation that I recently had with Danno and Liam, and which I have had all to often before that.

I generally take good care of my friends. That leads many of them to assume that I'm a nice person. I generally insist that no evidence supports that leap of logic. I can be nice to them, but I'm basically a mean person.

I mean that in a few different ways. I'm mean in the sense of not being generous. Not just financially, but in life. I don't like to extend the benefit of the doubt. I don't want to aid the downtrodden. I'm only interested in the things that I, personally, value. And when it comes to those things, I'm crazy obsessive.

When someone damages something I value, whether it's a person, or a relationship, or an object, the next sort of meanness creeps out. I believe in revenge, retribution, and punishment. People who hurt me usually end up getting hurt back. In a way this reflects the first sort of meanness. I don't just accept pain, I balance the books.

Luckily this sort of thing doesn't come up real often. At work they pay me to take the pain, and I can handle that. In my personal life my friends treat me well. It only comes up on those rare occasions where a friendship comes apart, or someone hurts one of my friends and I have the opportunity to become involved.

Yes, I said opportunity. Most people prefer to handle their own messes, and that's to their credit. But every once in a while I get lucky and a friend says, "Sure, take 'em out for me," or some foolish offender attempts to make nice. On those rare occasions, I like to have a little fun at their expense.

Hopefully this comes across well enough that next time someone says, "Jason, cut the bull, you're a nice guy," I can just say, "Read my diary, dimwit."

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