Sunday, March 11

Asshole, Or Not?

I used to be an asshole. Depression diagnosed, medication prescribed, soul searching completed, ability to "go with the flow" enhanced.

But sometimes, jerk offs just plain piss me off. I have spent so much time swallowing my pride, ignoring the boorish, trying to be nice. But not this time. I rejected the quiet acceptance of shitheads, and rediscovered my gonads.

Friday. Everyone wants to chill out. I picked a spot at the sports bar, signed in on the trivia box, settled in to genial converstation with other patrons. Then Jerkwad sat down.

Between the barstool I sat on and Jerkwad were three other barstools. He proceeded to push the empty stools in my direction, so that they touched each other, and propped his feet up on the one closest to him. Then he brought out his cell phone.

For 30 minutes I endured his phone conversations, punctuated by "dude" and "shit" and "see how important I am." For 30 minutes I endured his pounding of the bar, which sent vibrations my way, an annoyance to my ability to press the right buttons on the trivia box. For 30 minutes I endured his kicking of the nearest barstool, which trasmitted through the chain of barstools he had pushed my way, clunking at my ass in varous degrees. For 30 minutes I held my tongue. For 30 minutes I debated why I could be an absolute asshole. For 30 minutes, I hated myself and my culture that refuses to tar and feather the fuckers that have rights they don't deserve when we should be able to ride them out on the rail and put them in the stockade to humiliate them in front of the people they have insulted and oh oh oh arrrgh goddammit argggh ARRRGHHHHHH!!!

So I turned to the cretin and blew up like 2,000 Old Faithfuls.

"I AM HERE TO RELAX! DO I HAVE TO LISTEN TO EVERY PETTY PIECE OF CRAP IN YOUR LIFE?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

The bar was silent. He made some lame comment. Ten minutes later he hung up, paid his bill, and left.

The regulars said, "Jeez, Kingfisher. I've never seen you wonk out like that."

So I leave it to you, dear readers. Asshole, or not?

8 comments:

tiff said...

chair-pusher dude = megaasshole.

You = notsumuchwiththeasshole.

carry on.

Robyn said...

Cheers! That guy embodies everything we all hate about going out. People are so rude! They deserve to have someone bitch slap them now and again,

rennratt said...

Nope. Sometimes, you just take it until you...can't...anymore.

Good for you.

Mom said...

We all wish we had the guts to do that...trouble is we would have to do it so often!!!

Wordnerd said...

Absotively, posilutely NOT the asshole here. There WAS one, though. Good job!

Bebti said...

Sounds like I missed all the fun. I got to hang out with a different group self-centered idiots.

Oh well, maybe he'll come back this Friday? Hee hee...

Erica said...

Definitely not the asshole! You are an inspiration to the rest of us meek non-tarring-and-feathering bastards out here.
:-)

Loved your vacation photos, too - that looked like a WONDERFUL time together.

-Erica

Eduardo said...

Hmmmm.

I hate to swim against the stream, but I think you strayed awful close to assholery. On the very cusp, you might say. On the other hand, clearly he is over the cusp and deep into the territory that belongs to nether regions.

Your trouble came because you endured for too long without standing up for yourself. Whats wrong with just telling the guy in a firm but polite voice that he is getting on your nerves before you have to explode?

I think there is a middle way, is all.