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OMG, I am so tired of his twisted sense of reality--long rant
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<blockquote data-quote="Marguerite" data-source="post: 381043" data-attributes="member: 1991"><p>Your response should be - "You mean, we had a choice? Wait till I see Grandma next..."</p><p></p><p>Find humour in it all. Use it. Even in a nasty situation, humour can de-fuse.</p><p></p><p>I use a mobility scooter to get around in the neighbourhood. Sometimes I've been out after dark, on my way home and I meet up with some of the local gangs. Don't know what they are doing, but at very least they are hanging around the parks drinking. Probably doing drugs. Late at night, I've been beetling home at my snail's pace with dying batteries, and been seen by these kids. One incident I remember, I was terrified. I have good hearing, I heard these kids mutter, "Look at that! Let's go get her!" and then they ran at me. I was scared I was about to get attacked so they could steal the scooter from me. So I stopped and waited, looking them in the eye with a grin as they approached, as if they were friends running to meet me. </p><p>"Hi, can I help you?"</p><p>"Yeah, that thing is way cool!"</p><p>"You could have one too, if you want. But you need a physical disability to go along with it. I'm sure that can be arranged..." again, said with a grin, making a joke out of it. I then went into my pre-prepared comedy routine about needing a bumper sticker that says "Born to be mild" and how an arthritic snail can go faster than the scooter, especially when the batteries are flat. And those batteries (about to need replacing) cost $400 each. And I have to have two of them. When it's flat I often have to get off and walk, using the scooter to pull me along, like a motorised walking frame. "NOT so cool, really. But thanks for the compliment, guys. It's nice to be considered cool by you kids, even if you mightn't think so now you know what it's really like. But hey, there have to be some fringe benefits, you guys have made me feel a lot better tonight."</p><p></p><p>Humour defuses a threat and also allows the aggressor enough wiggle room to back down.</p><p></p><p>Years ago when difficult child 3 was little, he was babysat by a woman who lived in a very rough apartment block in the centre of Sydney. She was a lovely lady, but the neighbourhood as inner city drug-soaked slum. That building especially had a bad reputation with the city cops. The place looked it. </p><p>One day I was heading up in the elevator to the lady's apartment, to go collect difficult child 3, and there were two young, scruffy guys in there. I felt very uncomfortable because they were eying off my mobile phone. This one was a brick, but they were all bricks back then. Very few people had mobile phones and although I had won the thing (and not bought it) ownership of a mobile [phone marked you out as possibly affluent. There I was, in the equivalent of the roughest part of New York at night, with a couple of thugs, feeling as if I had a neon sign over my head screaming, "ROB ME!"</p><p>One thug looked at the other. "She's got a mobile phone," he said. As if I was already an object, no longer conscious. "Let's take it off her."</p><p>So I took control and took over. "Yep. Mobile phone. You're welcome to it. But you have to be able to pay the bill. That goes with the territory. It was second prize in a contest and I was so disappointed, I tried to trade with the winner of 3rd place. He didn't want it. I tried to sell the darn thing. Nobody wanted it. And it weighs a ton. Plus work know can ring me wherever I am, I can't even get away from the boss in the toilet! Take my advice - never et a mobile phone!"</p><p>By this time the lift had reached my floor and I smiled and waved goodbye to my new "friends" who MAY have been just joking, or may have been sizing me up. But by joking, I was giving them the option of NOT being judged to be a danger and therefore of not needing to attack me to prove that they were.</p><p>[mind you - when I got to the babysitter's apartment, I was a quivering, terrified wreck and needed to sit quietly for half an hour until I stopped shaking].</p><p></p><p>Humour also can make you feel a lot better about someone. There have been times recently when difficult child 3 has been screaming abuse, and I have turned it into a joke. It has totally cut the wind out of his sails, and it is very hard to continue to scream abuse when instead you are on the floor screaming with laughter.</p><p></p><p>If you feel threatened and you respond by appearing frightened, you give power to your attacker. But if you approach with humour, an attacker who wants you to be scared has just failed. </p><p></p><p>You have to be careful to not laugh too readily (which can also be a fear reaction) because this can enrage some people. A friendly smile and a joke is not the same. Laughing can be misconstrued as laughing AT someone. But making light of a situation and walking away can defuse a great deal.</p><p></p><p>Marg</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Marguerite, post: 381043, member: 1991"] Your response should be - "You mean, we had a choice? Wait till I see Grandma next..." Find humour in it all. Use it. Even in a nasty situation, humour can de-fuse. I use a mobility scooter to get around in the neighbourhood. Sometimes I've been out after dark, on my way home and I meet up with some of the local gangs. Don't know what they are doing, but at very least they are hanging around the parks drinking. Probably doing drugs. Late at night, I've been beetling home at my snail's pace with dying batteries, and been seen by these kids. One incident I remember, I was terrified. I have good hearing, I heard these kids mutter, "Look at that! Let's go get her!" and then they ran at me. I was scared I was about to get attacked so they could steal the scooter from me. So I stopped and waited, looking them in the eye with a grin as they approached, as if they were friends running to meet me. "Hi, can I help you?" "Yeah, that thing is way cool!" "You could have one too, if you want. But you need a physical disability to go along with it. I'm sure that can be arranged..." again, said with a grin, making a joke out of it. I then went into my pre-prepared comedy routine about needing a bumper sticker that says "Born to be mild" and how an arthritic snail can go faster than the scooter, especially when the batteries are flat. And those batteries (about to need replacing) cost $400 each. And I have to have two of them. When it's flat I often have to get off and walk, using the scooter to pull me along, like a motorised walking frame. "NOT so cool, really. But thanks for the compliment, guys. It's nice to be considered cool by you kids, even if you mightn't think so now you know what it's really like. But hey, there have to be some fringe benefits, you guys have made me feel a lot better tonight." Humour defuses a threat and also allows the aggressor enough wiggle room to back down. Years ago when difficult child 3 was little, he was babysat by a woman who lived in a very rough apartment block in the centre of Sydney. She was a lovely lady, but the neighbourhood as inner city drug-soaked slum. That building especially had a bad reputation with the city cops. The place looked it. One day I was heading up in the elevator to the lady's apartment, to go collect difficult child 3, and there were two young, scruffy guys in there. I felt very uncomfortable because they were eying off my mobile phone. This one was a brick, but they were all bricks back then. Very few people had mobile phones and although I had won the thing (and not bought it) ownership of a mobile [phone marked you out as possibly affluent. There I was, in the equivalent of the roughest part of New York at night, with a couple of thugs, feeling as if I had a neon sign over my head screaming, "ROB ME!" One thug looked at the other. "She's got a mobile phone," he said. As if I was already an object, no longer conscious. "Let's take it off her." So I took control and took over. "Yep. Mobile phone. You're welcome to it. But you have to be able to pay the bill. That goes with the territory. It was second prize in a contest and I was so disappointed, I tried to trade with the winner of 3rd place. He didn't want it. I tried to sell the darn thing. Nobody wanted it. And it weighs a ton. Plus work know can ring me wherever I am, I can't even get away from the boss in the toilet! Take my advice - never et a mobile phone!" By this time the lift had reached my floor and I smiled and waved goodbye to my new "friends" who MAY have been just joking, or may have been sizing me up. But by joking, I was giving them the option of NOT being judged to be a danger and therefore of not needing to attack me to prove that they were. [mind you - when I got to the babysitter's apartment, I was a quivering, terrified wreck and needed to sit quietly for half an hour until I stopped shaking]. Humour also can make you feel a lot better about someone. There have been times recently when difficult child 3 has been screaming abuse, and I have turned it into a joke. It has totally cut the wind out of his sails, and it is very hard to continue to scream abuse when instead you are on the floor screaming with laughter. If you feel threatened and you respond by appearing frightened, you give power to your attacker. But if you approach with humour, an attacker who wants you to be scared has just failed. You have to be careful to not laugh too readily (which can also be a fear reaction) because this can enrage some people. A friendly smile and a joke is not the same. Laughing can be misconstrued as laughing AT someone. But making light of a situation and walking away can defuse a great deal. Marg [/QUOTE]
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OMG, I am so tired of his twisted sense of reality--long rant
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