Drama Queens Should Not Have Access to Modern Methods of Communication 2/19/2004
one of my dearest friends in the world, melaina, is a drama queen. she understands this about herself and has mellowed out with age, so it’s not an issue these days so much as it was when we were wee high-school twits. back then, any time she got drunk at my house, the first order of business was to unplug all the phones, take them apart and hide their constituent pieces so she wouldn’t have the opportunity to make a phone call we would all inevitably regret the following day. once, when she was in college, she was at a party where someone had been remiss in their drama-proofing of the apartment, and she found her way to a phone. fortunately, she only had enough time to call her mother and then me (telling us both she had decided she was gay) before she passed out. another time, we were together at a little camp-fire pissup. After drinking the majority of a bottle of southern comfort (as you do), she decided she had to call her boyfriend, and ran off into the forest at night in search of a payphone. she never found one.
however, the lesson remains: drama queens should, under no circumstances, be allowed access to any communication technology while they are experiencing an episode. indeed, this caution is never truer than with a particular subset of the drama-queen, the bitter & jaded.
recently, it has come to our attention that my husband’s ex-girlfriend (as fantastic an example of The Bitter & Jaded Drama Queen as you’re likely to run across) has written a petty little article for an online magazine (apparently the current episode she’s experiencing is a particularly long-lived one). it went something like this:
“my ex-boyfriend is not an individual, he’s a type. a type that didn’t dump me, but that dumped all women. therefore, it’s okay for me to be as derisive, petty and childish as i see fit, because i’m just tellin’ it like it is and speaking on behalf of all women, not me. and anyway, i’m not talking exactly about my ex-boyfriend, i’m just implying it all over the place. i mean, like, my ex-boyfriend is an asshole. and a wimp.”
oh dear.
citizens, it’s up to all of us to protect these poor lasses from themselves. do not lend them your mobile, do not lend them your bandwidth, do not lend them fifty cents to make a phone call until a licensed therapist assures you they are in remission. it is always undignified and embarassing to work out issues in public; they will undoubtedly thank you when they return to sanity.