Aubergine or Eggplant?

I call them eggplants. But my neighbor from Wales calls them aubergines.

Who is right? Who is wrong?

I guess it’s all good. Except my neighbor made fun of me for calling the veggie an eggplant. I have news for her: In the United States, that’s what we call them.

My neighbor is not the kindest person. She needs to understand that “eggplant” is a valid word here, and we’re not intellectually inferior, as a culture, for not calling them aubergines.

At first, I thought she was only joking. But no. She was serious. She began with eggplants, but then it went to our schools, and even our sports. If Wales is so great, consider a move back there sometime soon. I’m actually part Welsh, so please don’t accuse me of any sort of bias. But c’mon. Being a guest in another culture, and then bashing everything about it. That’s NPD.

You know, NPD is actually a medical term, and is included in the DSM-V. I am not trying to make impromptu diagnoses, but if the shoe fits…

I had this woman over for coffee, but never again. She even laughed at my living room furniture, saying the couch looked like a cow. I mean, maybe the thought crossed her mind, but saying it? And then laughing for a minute straight?

My Massage That Wasn’t

I called for an in-home massage. What I got was a nasty woman who blamed me that her therapist did not arrive. I called one of those in-home massage apps. The texting feature did not seem to work. I was assured, via voice call, that Amaranda, a licensed massage therapist, would be at my home shortly. But that’s not how it happened. The place I called started with the letter “S”.

At about ten to the hour, right as I was expecting the masseuse to arrive, I received a call. She wasn’t able to make it. I was nonplussed; I said it really wasn’t great to wait until ten to the hour to call me. The woman on the other end of the phone was a monster. She basically said it was my fault because I chose a time that there were fewer therapists on call.

Fact that this may be, why did she then tell me I had an appointment? And what happened to Amaranda? I don’t think she even exists. I told the woman that this is no way to run a business. She got even nastier! SO I began recording her and then played her back to herself. She wasn’t sorry; she actually threatened to call the police on me for threatening her. I didn’t know a complaint was a threat. Learn something new.

I called another place, I think it was called Mountainside On Site Therapy or something. They were honest enough to tell me it’s a busy night and a therapist may not be around. Busy night? Apparently not for everyone! The other place had told me it was a SLOW night.

Ten minutes later, the woman called me back and told me that my appointment was on, and the therapist would be there in a hour. They even offered me a second session at a steep discount for the trouble some other company gave me.

Needless to say, there’s a range in services out there. NPD plays a big role. You don’t want a company that makes excuses. I know all it takes is one employee to ruin it for everyone, but if company policy is drawn up along lines that an individual with NPD would understand, you’ve got trouble.

Company policy is not random. At the top, there’s some person telling their underlings what to do. Someone is setting the tone. And so, if you encounter NPD workers, chances are it’s an NPD company.

I gave a Massage company as an example. But it’s true for every service that you use. However the people at the top, be they owners or just managers, set the tone, the entire outfit will follow. If you’re planning on sending your kids to day care, the same rule applies. If they don’t treat you with respect and kindness, chances are they’re not going to treat your son or daughter with much regard, either.

And, there’s the whole honest aspect. Go to a car repair shop. Dealing with a narcissist? Expect lousy service, expect to be ripped off. Don’t expect anything good, because places like that will not come through for you.

My experience with the massage really woke me up. One place was helpful, the other was not. This was my wakeup call. I don’t want a massage session provided by some company that regards me only as a source of dollars. I want a company that sees massage as a healing art, a science even. There’s no place for narcissism in such a company. Ever.

My Sister Chelsie

Her name’s not really Chelsie. I changed her name, although I have not identified my own self. Chelsie is a classic NPD “sufferer.” She really knows how to make those around her suffer with her, I’ll give the girl that!

Growing up, she would do whatever she wanted. My parents grew afraid to even tell her anything, lest they provoke a storm of her rage, a tantrum session she apparently never grew out of.

My parents ruined her. They gave her whatever she wanted. Want waffles, hon? Mom makes waffles. Chelsie says, “I want pancakes. Not eating waffles.” Mom then makes pancakes. Mistake! Now Chelsie is like this with EVERYthing, and I do mean everything.

Parents, don’t spoil your kids. I hated when the oldsters said that when I was a youth, but they were right. They’d all be turning over in their graves, actually. Kids should not run the household. My parents f-d up, big time. They created a monster.

Wretchedness Demystified

On my Wretchedness Demystified notes, you will find a treatise on the topic that most interests me: The Narcissist. I don’t mean someone who is headstrong; rather I refer to individuals with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Unfortunately, I have come across my fair share. Actually, it’s been less than a handful in six decades of life, so I’m actually lucking out. The world is full of such people! In this blog, I shall explore the phenomenon, and hope to help others suffering under the tyranny of narcissistic abuse.