Striving for biggest jerk title

Today I have a confession to make: I’m a jerk. I try not to be mean.

I see myself as a kind and generous man who contributes to make the world a slightly better place for us all, but the moment I let my guard down, I’m a jerk again.

This morning, for example, I was on the N3 on my way to work, dreaming of a charity project I’m planning, when an enormous bakkie flashed his lights behind me.

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It took several obscenities and rude gestures from me before I could return to my thoughts of helping underprivileged kids.

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Of course the lovely Snapdragon – my loving wife and an elite level jerk in her own right – can’t wait to point out that I fail so often at being compassionate and kind-hearted.

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“You’re such a nasty piece of work,” she told me the other day.

“If there was a competition to find the biggest jerk on earth, you would be in second place.” “Why not first?”

I asked, my competitive spirit triggered and my feelings somewhat hurt. “Because you’re too much of a jerk,” she replied.

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Ouch. I would never say such a thing to her. Being a supportive husband, I would see my dear wife as the absolute favourite to win the title.

I’ll even attend the prize-giving ceremony … and there I’m a jerk again. Damn. I so desperately want to be good.

Deep down, I’m kind-hearted and compassionate soul, but this cruel world has given me such a thick layer of nasty that hides it.

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At the moment, I’m sitting in my office writing. It’s a holiday, but I’m at work. Snapdragon is home with the five-year-old Egg.

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As soon as I have completed this column, I’ll drive home and hold her tight.

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I’ll whisper inappropriate insults in her ear and not be bothered, because I am able to see into my kind heart where my simple, soft words are wriggling to come out and fly to her like velvety butterflies.

I’ll convince her to go out for lunch with me.

I’ll try my best not to be a jerk (and likely fail miserably), but perhaps she’ll see that my intentions are pure.

There will be a gentle smile on her gorgeous face (unlike me, she’s at least beautiful on the outside) when she takes my hand and speaks: “Maybe you deserve that first place after all.”

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By Dirk Lotriet
Read more on these topics: Columns