If you ever find yourself in a situation where you’ve been mildly wronged, say, at a car repair shop that told you the repair would be free, but ended up charging $55 for labor, start throwing a tantrum. Do not let your anger rise slowly, reach a flaming hot boil the moment you’re given the bill and sustain that anger to a degree that requires the receptionist to hover her finger over the 911 button throughout the duration of your stay at her counter. Tell her that if she really wants some help she better call your husband because he’s the only one with even the slightest chance of calming you down right now. And when she does call your husband, he’ll greet her in his calm, mild-mannered voice and then instruct her to just do whatever you want because there might be some serious physical and emotional consequences if she doesn’t comply. Your husband’s key piece of advice to this receptionist will be, “Look, you don’t understand my wife. I really don’t know what she might do before I can get down there.”  As she puts the phone down, make it clear through body language that calling for help was futile, and the thin sliding pane of glass separating the two of you will soon shatter under the weight of your stare. Hell hath no fury like a woman overcharged for auto repair. 

Be unreasonable. The ratio of your anger to the banality of the situation should be absurdly disproportioned. Make sure your sanity is in question. Let her know that you don’t have a problem with her personally and you know she’s just doing her job, then proceed to call her a ‘heifer’ and demand to know how many times her parents had to drop her on her big-ass head before she came out dumb enough to work as a receptionist at a car service and lube center. Cause a scene that the elderly couple behind you will never forget - even in their dementia. Give the people a story to tell. Make your anger legendary. 

And most importantly, when the receptionist asks you to ‘please calm down,’ cock your head to the side, wide-eyed and say this verbatim:

“Calm down? Oh you haven’t even seen me. I will be on the news.” 

This is the type of threat that could only come from a woman who has seen some serious shit and done even worse. A woman who has watched a litany of ghetto folk go apeshit on the 6 o’clock news and sees them as role models. A woman who is willing, ready, and able to commit a felony for principle because her mama didn’t raise no fool.

This woman is my sister-in-law and all of this happened at her local Volkswagen dealership on Friday. This is real life and the line “Oh you haven’t seen me. I will be on the news” is funnier and more poetic than anything fiction could ever come up with. I call her G-Unit because that’s her first initial and she has more thug in her upper lip than The Game and all his tattooed butt buddies combined. She’s a 98 pound kindergarten teacher from Atlanta, GA and she will be on the news.