The Care and Treatment of Stupidity Sufferers

In summary from last time: years ago, stuper (short for a visibly stupid person) neighbor, Constance, indelicately dropped by my house in the most wee hours of a Sunday morning just to pay me a Twilight Zone type visit. She managed to nose about without even stepping inside and didn’t find things to her liking. Before she left, she invited my son and me to her child’s birthday party. At the party, Constance did an admirable impression of one striven to be my bff (best friend forever). I didn’t hear or speak to her thereafter.

Now that we’re up to speed, fast forward one whole year.

Due to a downturn in our finances, we’d moved into a neighborhood not quite as nice as our previous home. Think trading a new BMW in for a slightly used and substantially underpowered Kia.

Husband and I opened a small cafe/coffee house where I’d often be found slinging lattes and alternating between playing shrink, barmaid, waitress, bellhop and stupersitter for a hyperactive, jittery and upscale crowd consisting of many of my old neighbors and acquaintances.

One day, Constance walked in with hubby, Mac. I, standing behind the counter, said,

“Hi! Nice to see you!”

Constance responded, “One black coffee and a nonfat latte.”

I whipped up the java and stared at myself in the mirror behind the coffee machine. Had my appearance altered over the past year? No drastic hairdo changes, tattoos, nose piercing or large, elongated bifocals that came dangerously close to becoming goggles. I looked the same.

I took the coffees to their table and waited. They said nothing and I returned to the counter. Minutes later, I heard,

“This coffee’s cold.”

Constance stood before me, frowning, holding a steaming cup. Perhaps she’d expected flames? I searched for the creme brulee torch. Just then Mac stormed up and huffed,

“We need more napkins.”

Gone were the smiling, delighted faces from last year’s birthday party. At first I was puzzled. I didn’t get it. Why the lack of civility? Can you actually completely forget a person in one year’s time even though you’ve had direct contact with said person many times and spent several hours together at a small, but somewhat memorable party? Possibly; a sudden bout of Rapid Onset Amnesia (commonly found in stupers) or any form of amnesia would do the trick. But such forgetfulness is definite, if you’re a proven stuper.

Stupidity, if left unchecked and untreated, will grow, gradually emptying the mind of all its contents. Look what happened to Constance. Drop by drop, her brain practically evaporated from nonuse and misuse until only the idiot, corn kernel size mind remained. Authentic humans gather worthy thoughts and deeds, building up knowledge and happiness. Counterfeit humans don’t gather anything beneficial.

Take note that in this post and the prior, Constance did not resemble a happy camper. Though she and Mac seemed content at the party, it was fleeting, a temporary high from too much cake, candy and ice cream, along with the influx of gifts. For a more consistent high (without drugs or alcohol), mind training is essential.

We are the product of our mental processes. Any limitations imposed upon us by heredity or environment may be overcome simply by properly utilizing our minds. We need to withdraw into ourselves, turn into Michaelangelos and get to work. The great Michaelangelo regarded a block of marble, then cut away all that was excessive, smoothed out the rough parts, bringing light to shadows. He labored to make his work of art beautiful. This is exactly what each of us can do with our minds.

Just think.


6 Responses to “The Care and Treatment of Stupidity Sufferers”

  1. M.C. says:

    Is it possible you were latered by Constance because you no longer lived in the ritzy neighborhood? In her small mind, you were no longer worth acknowledging. You were a mere waitress.

  2. dawn says:

    Your analogy of Michaelangelo is perfect… I’m going to stamp this line on my forehead… “He labored to make his work of art beautiful.”

  3. Suzie says:

    Kel, I am not surprised. My mom used to tell me a story about a man who went to a party dressed in regular clothes (not fancy party clothes).
    He sat down at the table to eat. The hostess kept giving him dirty looks and he left. He went home, changed his clothes and came back, dressed in a tux. They put him next to the head of the table and told him how happy they were that he made it. Like he’d just arrived. He looked at his tux and said “go ahead and eat!” The hostess asked him what he was doing. He replied, “Obviously, it’s not me you’re happy to see, but my tux!” This Constance reminds me of the Hostess. You lived in a nice house and she was interested. You moved and worked in a cafe and she couldn’t even see you, though you stood right in front of her. That’s stupidity for you!

  4. new diva says:

    I’m so sorry this happened to you. What is wrong with people, what happended to the old adage “you catch more flies with honey…”? Could people possibly be more self involved?

    btw, thanks for the offer to vent as a guest author, but my stupors are my father and step-mother and somehow they would know…they seem to lurk everywhere.

  5. Julianne says:

    I have to agree with M.C. I think Constance is less of a amnesia ridden stupor and more of a stupor snob who can’t be bothered with acknowledging the likes of you. Either way, she’s a moron.

  6. Jenny says:

    OHO! Constance and Mac … I have known such. Ignore ’em and forget ’em for they are a dime a dozen.

    Very inspiring post as usual, Keli.

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