People That Have To One Up You

They grate on my every last fucking nerve!

Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplash

I must be fucking stupid because when I first met this overachiever, I didn’t catch on to what she was doing. My daughter and granddaughter had to point it out to me.

“Your friend, One-Up Sally, stole the show today,” my daughter said as my granddaughter agreed, both smiling at me.

I had a small Christmas gathering at my house, where this new member of our walking group attended. Sally did monopolize the conversation a bit. I was being a hostess, so I missed the details of her flapping her lips, so my daughter and granddaughter filled me in.

Within an hour’s time, she upped herself many times: She had owned more dogs than anyone else had, and dogs that had major health issues. She spent thousands of dollars on their treatment. No one else could get a word in edgewise as the diarrhea poured out of her mouth about her fucking dogs.

Speaking about diarrhea, she had the worst case of irritable bowel syndrome. She had limited food she could eat because of it. My daughter said that Sally wolfed down a piece of carrot cake just fine.

She owned more homes than anyone else did. Right now, she owns three, but at times she has owned five. She talked about the headaches she’s had with tenants. I couldn’t relate as I live in a 1,000-square-foot house with one freaking bathroom. My only tenants are the mice who sneak in when it gets cold outside.

Someone mentioned that they had skin cancer, but One-Up-Sally had it worse. It’s no wonder she has any skin left, and her organs weren’t spilling out all over the fucking place from what she described. The doctor did skin grafts all over her body to cover the craters caused by the cancer. Hell, they were bigger than the craters on the fucking moon, the way she went on.

I laughed at these stories, but during the year I have had to deal with her personally, and I’ve wanted to one-up her in her ass.

I was proud of having 500 hours of volunteer time with the animal rescue I volunteer with. I told my friends at lunch, who were happy for me, except Sally was there, and told everyone that she had over 750 hours with the same organization. No one said anything; they just rolled their eyes.

I broke my wrist on a hike that Sally was on, but Sally told me that she broke her arm in three places once. No one had ever experienced pain like hers. She was immobile for months.

As I lay there in pain, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, all I could hear was Sally explaining about her fucking arm that I wanted to beat her with if I could.

The last straw was just recently. I mentioned that my sister had a tumor in her lung. One Up said her sister had the same thing, but it turned out to be nothing. She didn’t say it in a concerned way either. It was her regular matter-of-fact way of explaining things that hers is always better.

My sister died within a month. I told Sally that she couldn’t one-up me on this; her sister didn’t die. She couldn’t believe I called her on it. No sympathy from this fucking person. She just got up and left when she couldn’t top it. Everyone clapped under the table when she left.

I haven’t heard from her since then. Maybe she found a new group to try to impress. She has worn out her welcome here.

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