I'm me.. deal with it

Recently I had a talk with a friend of mine. Not just a talk. A Talk. Note the capitals.

Now for those of you who know me, and for many of you who read this blog regularly, you know that I swear, a lot. My language and topics often go from the blue to the horrifying to the disgusting. It's not Tourettte's or Coprolalia (which, incidentally, translates to talking shit). It's not involuntary, I have a choice, I can choose what to say, and when. It's just that most of the time I choose to.

I have good friends. I might say that I have supergreatawesome friends. I might also say they are bunch of badass motherfuckers who would do anything for me. I would like to think that I am the same to them. They have, on many an occasion tried to get me to stop swearing. They have tried to get me to moderate my behaviour. It, obviously, hasn't worked.

What bothered my friend - from here on I will call him the Toymaker - was that apparently certain friends we have in common, that he introduced me to, are uncomfortable with hanging out with me. Apparently for some I am too much of a lech, for others, it is my language, for some more it is my overfamiliarity.

The Toymaker wants me to change. He wants to know why it is so much of a sacrifice that I will not amend my ways so that I would get to hang out with more people. It takes me a while to answer.

Firstly, I am not averse to change. I am the first to admit that I have many bad habits. I can be a bore, a boor, a brat, and many other things besides. I can be a right bastard to have around. However, it helps when people tell me what I am doing wrong. The Toymaker is not telling me what I am doing wrong, he is a messenger for others who are too cowardly and craven to do so. He has defended me when people I considered friends talked behind my back about how terrible I am. He has tried to get them to see my point of view, he has tried to get them to tell me. But since they know that he is the only one among them who is willing to confront me, they never complain to me, they complain to him. There is a part of me that rebels against that. I am willing to make changes, but not on a he said, she said bullshit routine. I change for people I respect, people who are willing to talk to me face to face. If they are unwilling to do so, and instead rely on third-party intermediaries, then my respect for them and their opinions automatically drops.

Secondly, I am usually a nice guy. At least my friends who know me tell me so. I am able to be serious when it is called for. I have even worn shoes on certain occasions. But, meet me in a relaxed place, in a time when I am out to have fun, then I am most emphatically not serious. I am the class clown. I will take a pratfall or three (or a dozen). I will be a lot of things, and all those things will be caricatures. If I lech, it will be a caricature lecher. Whatever I do will be exaggerated, larger than life. If a person has half a brain, they will know that I am joking. Unfortunately, it seems that a certain young lady doesn't have that. When everyone was hanging out and laughing at my lecherous antics, she not only didn't call me out and tell me that it was making her uncomfortable (which would have had me contrite and apologetic in nanoseconds), but she continued to laugh and joke and respond to my actions, which made me think she was quite cool with it. Later, much later she complains to the Toymaker about it, expecting him to come take me to task.

Item the third. I call women by a lot of affectionate terms. Hon, lass, love, sweetheart, and many others. I call my guy friends mate, dude, vato, machan (a Sinhala word meaning mate, dude, vato), and most recently cock-juggling thundercunt. These are not terms of endearment, they are terms of affection. I don't use that on my clients unless I am very close to them. I don't use that on strangers either. I would call a bus conductor malli, boss, or even machan, but as far as I am concerned, those are words for guys. And lacking equivalent female terms, I use a different set. And apparently that makes some people upset, because I use terms of endearment on them. I am crap at remembering names. I would barely remember mine if people didn't call me by it all the time. My name is Hey You Stop Thief Oh God Motherfucker. And I feel bad about being formal enough to call people by name. So I use terms of affection, not terms of endearment. Hon not Honey, the Cockney luv not love, the Bogartian schweetart instead of sweetheart, and the good old Scottish lass.

They get upset about it too. They feel I am being over-familiar. What the fuck? I mean seriously. We are meeting for drinks, and conversation. It is a relaxed atmosphere. I feel there is no need for me to call you by your name (especially if I can't remember it). I have no problems with them calling me anything they want, and I do them the honour of assuming that they are as open-minded as I am. But they get upset, they claim it is not PC, and want me to be PC. And then they go complain to the Toymaker.

Finally, I am not willing to change. At least not all the way. For me at least, friendship comes at a price. The price is that you accept your friends for what they are. It is always a choice. You can pay the price or you can walk away. I have friends from all walks of life, from all points of the belief spectrum. They know how I feel about things, I usually know how they feel. If they do or believe in something I consider wrong or stupid, and that belief is unshakeable, then I let them have that belief. I accept it, and ignore it. It is that belief that makes them the person they are, and if they are my friend, it is because I love the person they are. I also try to avoid calling them on it. And my friends do me the same courtesy. I am willing to change to a certain level, but I am not going to change all the way. Why the fuck should I? Especially why should I if those who are demanding that I change don't have the guts to face me directly? And most of all, why should I make all the changes? After all a relationship is a two-way street. Both sides make adjustments. The last time I was in a relationship where the adjustments were too big, the differences too far, it ended in tears, heartbreak, anger, and divorce court.

I have had way too many people telling me to change. I have tried to change, to fit in, to keep my head down and not make waves every since I was a lad. Then I realised, the people around me push, and keep pushing. Change a little, they want you to change some more. People don't like being made uncomfortable. I am ok with being put in situations that make me uncomfortable, and I will go out of my way to make people feel comfortable. But there comes a point when even I say, Not again. The line must be drawn here! This far, no further!

But, there is a price to pay. There always is. The Toymaker tells me that some of his friends don't want to hang out with me because of the way I act. He says he doesn't want to have to make the choice. I can understand, and I can accept. If the price I have to pay to hang out with people who are so un-understanding of me that they demand that I change my ways, then it is a price I am willing to pay. This is not a Tragic Hero thing. This is simply my recognising that I am not everyone's choice of friend. How could I be? I cannot be all things to all end-users. But for those who are my friends, who put up with me, who know me, I give the best. But I also demand the best. I am not the person who says, You can't hang out with us if you bring him along. How the fuck can I? I am not the person who holds it against people when they make a choice to hang out with people who are not me. Why bother? I have a place to stay, I have alcohol, I have the Internet, I have porn. Really, what more would I need?

I am me. Deal with it.