Ordinary Stories of (Un)Ordinary Lives

Here’s a quick one:

Lots of humanitarians go to lots of places for lots of reasons.  My second-largest pet peeve (after the first, which is people leaving bunched up wet towels to ‘dry…’ THEY DON’T FUCKING DRY BUNCHED UP, DO THEY GOD DAMN IT…! see what I mean?) is humanitarian workers when they exhibit serious lack of judgment and logic and show off about the ‘awesome parties’ they had in serious shitholes, warzones, disaster zones, etc.  Now I know that everyone has to blow off steam.  But the number of BLOWs you gave to do that, or the number of BLOWs you received is not my fucking idea of understanding ‘how hard it was.’

Seriously man.  How about that for respecting someone else’s fucked up life?  Everywhere around you people suffer, and you’re partying?  Well, yes, because your life has to continue somehow.  Fine.  But just because you’ve left that place doesn’t mean I now want to hear about how in the end it was all about that hot young nurse/UNV monkey-on-a-string you banged on top of a water bladder behind your air-conditioned container office-cum-guesthouse.

So have some respect for the people where you work, but in the end, have some understanding that not all of us consider your partying it down the only thing that you did ‘over there.’  It’s not about what the priority is.  It’s just a little bit inconsiderate.  So keep it to yourself and refrain from contributing to the general consciousness/stereotype that all humanitarian workers are shallow and self-centered.

…There’s other fora to do that.

SKIDOOSH.