The Tattlers

Man, what is with supposed grown folk?

Is it the economy? What?

Lately, I have dealt with more so called adults who act like, well, six year olds.

Everything boils down to people not complaining, or making a point, but them telling on other adults.

Case in point: I walked into my place of business for a quick cup of coffee (perhaps this is why I have not had a day off in over a month) and overheard Rachel, my majordomo, insisting to a caller that I would not be on site until the following evening. Some of my staff has become very protective of me, and while I ignore their insistence that I stay away from work when I am supposed to be off, I usually heed to their wishes regarding accepting phone calls, meeting with vendors, and the like.

I gently took the phone from Rae and greeted the caller.

“I need a manager…”

“Yes, ma’am. Happy to help you.”

“So, see, she lied to me. Told me there was no manager on duty.”

“Ma’am? I am happy to help you with whatever inconvenience you suffered in my place of business. First, however, there will be some ground rules: casting aspersions on the character of my staff is counterproductive, and frankly, I won’t stand for it. Now how may I help you?”

She voiced her complaint, which, in fairness, was partly about my product, but also partly about the staff. Were they unprofessional? No. Were they negligent? No. She didn’t like the look on their faces. What? Yes. They smiled while listening to her. That was rude. Ma’am, it’s a goddamn hotel. I ORDER my people to smile. Get over it.

Or the guy who browbeat me for a discount on a whirlpool suite Friday. He called. He came in, reviewed the room. Usually, I like helping people who want to plan a special evening for their special person. In my opinion, stuff like that is part of what makes a relationship beautiful. This fool started almost whining, “Yeah, man, my girl wants me to spend some money, and you know, says we need a night out, but this is expensive.”

What? You think telling on your girl is gonna get me in your corner? Yeah. How dare she want the two of you to do a night away from home somewhere different and just be with each other? Fool. How is it you got somebody and I don’t? Man, I am not going to listen to you telling on a woman you know you’ll be intimate with in a matter of hours, just so you can save a few bucks. Full price, Fool. She’s worth it, even if for only sleeping with your punk, ah, you know.

The owners of my establishment regularly tell on each other. To me. One, like I speak Hindi. Two, do you really think, coming from a Black family, with oodles of cousins, aunts, nieces and nephews, I am going to side with one of you knowing full well ya’ll family? Man up, talk to your relative, and leave me out of it.

I have come to detest people tattling on each other so much, the minute someone opens their mouth with a complaint, I go into Jack Webb mode: “Just the facts, please.” What is even sadder is the number of adults who then take a deep breath, pout, and then give me the fact sullenly. It is as if they are saying, “Look, my problem was inconsequential. What I really wanted was for you to go do something to someone because they made me mad.”

This summer, I worked part time at a place where staff actually watched each other and waited for a slip up. These weren’t teens or twenty-somethings. These were people with families. The woman I was seeing at the time suggested a home remedy for an ailment, some mix of vinegar and water. I mixed some up and took it to work. OK, part of this was my fault. Lacking any suitable containers, I pulled out my stainless steel flask and poured the concoction in there. I was at work and forgot it in the fridge. The next morning, I went looking in the fridge for my flask. Gone. I went to the boss to complain.

“Oh, yeah,” she produced it from her desk drawer. “Such and such brought this to me and went into a long litany about people drinking on the job and how she would help me find them.”

Uh huh. Such and such was fired for being drunk at work a month later. As for me? The boss tried to lecture me until I calmly told her that based on the odor in her office; it was obvious the container held a sizeable amount of vinegar. “You want me to bring a more appropriate container?” I asked. “Then gimme a raise so I can afford one. If I was gonna drink here, better believe it’d be vodka, which has no smell, and that I would be too thirsty to leave it in the fridge.”

I used to write angry letters for relatives who felt they’d been wronged in an establishment. I am a big believer in customer service. I stopped, though, when I realized that while there are rules to trade, many customers have reached a point where they expect the businesses to live up to their responsibilities as merchants, while they neglect their own responsibilities as patrons. I flat told one relative I would not use my talents to possibly get a manager of a restaurant fired when I knew this relative pocketed everything not nailed to the table whenever they ate there.

The first words out of a customer’s mouth, after they do the obligatory tattling, of course, are “How will I be compensated?” In some cases, the customer who expects a business to shave a few bucks for any inconvenience is the same one angry when they are charged for things they know they used. I have had guests in my hotel ask for a discount because the water in the toilet bowl was not cold enough, then look at their bill with incredulity when they have been charged extra for cramming 32 kids into the smallest room available. “How you know them kids was with me?” “I didn’t until you lined them all up after breakfast and started giving them orders about what to do when they got back to the room.” One lady had 17 children with her. Ma’am, you encouraged each of those kids to eat as much of the free hot breakfast as they could so you wouldn’t have to buy lunch later. Now you are mad because the hotel charged you extra, as your contract states we will, for that?

Where is the concept of fairness? because the first thing these folk start whining is abouthow unfair a situation is. Grow up.

Everyone does it. White men get on talk radio and tattle on people of color, often reminding us of welfare, conveniently forgetting the welfare rolls are comprised of white females. Oh, there’s that and the tattling of how hard they work, as if no one works harder, as they conveniently forget America is being beaten at its own game by foreigners who put in more hours and work harder for the dollars we take for granted.

Black men tattle on Black women, trying to justify their irresponsibility or mistreatment because of the way these women talk to them or front them off. Yeah, Pookie. I’m talking to you. Look, we all have arguments, we all say things we shouldn’t, and some of us pay really high prices for that. Your justification for impregnating five other women and beating her ass isn’t flying. You telling on every little thing that she does, thinking it makes you look like a victim and thus expected to act like less than a man, is stupid. Stop tattling. Man up. I had a situation recently where a ball of wax got unraveled, and the man in me couldn’t stomach the idea of finger-pointing and saying, “Well, SHE did this…” Whatever. Hurt and move on. Just keep your mouth shut.

Black women tattle on each other and themselves, letting way too many people into their business. I have marveled at some of my female friends will trust girlfriends, sisters and cousins with really dirty personal information, and then tell every detail of another woman’s dirt over some petty slight. That makes about as much sense as insulting someone who prepares your food.

I have known Asians who tattle on whites or blacks, depending on which is convenient. They tattle on whites for mistreating them as customers and taking them for granted, while it slips their mind they do the same to the blacks that patronize their businesses. They tattle on blacks for not being moral enough while overlooking the vices and violence in their own communities.

These are not generalizations. Sadly, I have experienced all forms of this just within the last two days.


I know someone who tattled on their significant other, sharing what was supposed to be confidential changes to their relationship with a relative. I have heard someone else tattle on their boss, making a case out of nothing, just to get some tattling time in. Of course I hear people tattle on employees, proving that those with power exercise decision and those without exercise pettiness and their gums.

Ya’ll know better. I have a solution.

The mature among us should invest in those spring loaded steel batons they sell at martial arts weapons outlets. They collapse to about four inches, but with the touch of a button, they shoot to over 2 feet of ass cracking steel. Again, these will only be issues to mature folk. Folk who believe in privacy, understanding, discretion, respect and just generally getting along. They must be drama free, as those who like drama often use tattling as a first line of defense. Failed relationships and not so perfect personal lives have no effect on qualification.

These individuals will be trained (I just created a bunch of new jobs without the help of Congress. Thank me later) to strike at pressure points the moment anyone over the age of 20, regardless of age or gender, opens their mouth to tattle on another adult. Telephone tattling will result in the offender being made aware that upon physical sight, they will receive an anti-tattling sanction. The training will be for pressure point areas only. It is understood, that as with police officers who must use their weapon in the line of duty, there will be instances when unavoidable skull crackings will be investigated, with favorable prejudice towards the cracker, and suspicion of the crackee. Comments that begin with "Let me speak to your supervisor" will be considered as hostile activity and permissibly addressed with deadly force.

This is a public service, and I cannot say how long we will have to dedicate ourselves to this mission. The reward for your sacrifice will be knowing you’ve made the world a better place, one where adults to not regress into early childhood, and where other adults are not forced to take childish ramblings seriously at the fear of losing business or peace of mind.

As a sidebar, I would prefer not to know if certain agents have discovered other, erotic uses for the correction rods. It’s been a couple of months. I need no ideas, thank you very much.

That’s all for now.

By the way? Please don’t read this and go tattling to the authorities about my advocating the use of force in dealing with pettiness.

They are already on my side.