So far this morning, I’ve managed to oversleep, some little man attempted to pick a fight with me over a quarter, and finally, I was forced to climb seven flights of stairs thanks to a broken elevator. Oh yeah, I also have to do #2 in the work bathroom, with their tiny claustrophobic stalls. As long as I don’t get shot on my lunch break, my day has nowhere to go but up.
Seriously though, aside from the extended break I’m about to take in my work version of the Fortress of Solitude, the Angry Quarter Man is what stands out the most to me right now. I was waiting to catch the bus that drops me off right in front of my office, when this guy interrupts my iPod Scrabble game* and asks me for a quarter. I told him “I’m sorry. I don’t have any cash.” Oh, I had cash. He could probably hear the change jingle-jangle-jingle in my pocket as I walked around. I wasn’t giving HIM any cash, however, because out of the 10 people out there, he chose to approach me first after clearly seeing that I was in the middle of something and trying to avoid as much human contact as possible.
The guy then walked off to the side with a scowl and started mumbling “Why don’t you check your motherf*ckin’ pocket?” He then took about twelve paces flailing his arms to the side as if to say “I’m tough! look at me!”
At this point, I had two choices: take the high road and ignore him, or push him directly into oncoming traffic. Since prison would not be a good look for me, I decided against violence. However, I am not the most mature individual on Earth, so I couldn’t help but laugh at his tiny little pissed-off thug rant. Not surprisingly, Leprechaun in the Hood did not like this. He continued flailing his dainty, delicate little arms as he mumbled under his breath to the woman he was with and they walked away. I’m really glad that I didn’t have to bust anyone’s ass before breakfast, but I really hope that life in general continues to kick that guy’s ass, since he tried to ruin my morning.
I need you all to honestly answer this question for me, with no fear of me lashing out back at you: Do I look like a bitch? Seriously? I ask this, because this is the third time someone has tried to test me in the past month. The first was a drunk guy at a bar who was hitting on the bartender and thought I was bad-mouthing him when I merely asked her to close my tab. I explained his drunken misunderstanding to him, deescalated the situation three times and even shook his hand, thinking I’d amicably resolved things with this f*cktard. Unfortunately as I was leaving, he starts talking sh*t again and threatened to kick my ass.
I hate it when I try to walk away, and people WON’T LET ME WALK AWAY! It makes me want to forcibly separate them from their dignity and their teeth. So when that guy finally pushed me to the limit, I said “You know what? I tried to let you win. I really reaaally tried…but you’re too f*cking stupid to even see that. I’m going outside. If I see you out there, ain’t gon’ be no more talking.” So I went outside and waited for him as the owner of the establishment and others who saw why I was that mad said things to calm me down. I eventually decided that I have more to lose than to gain by repeatedly punching and kicking some guy who was already too drunk to walk straight.
At the very moment I had that thought, the drunk guy comes outside and tries to say something again. Before the drunk guy could take two steps, the owner confronted him, and soon afterward the bouncer proceeded to slap the ever-loving shit out of him in front of the entire street. He literally slapped the man sober. On a Friday night with all kinds of background noise going on, the slap was so hard that it damn near echoed. I thought to myself “Wow. Keeping it real INSTANTLY went wrong for that guy!”
The other story in the trilogy of Springtime f*ckery involves some guy who tried to push his way past me to use the bathroom at this restaurant. I merely gave him an elbow to the chops when he tried to pass me, and boxed him out like I was trying to get a rebound on the basketball court. It wasn’t a hard “I hope this makes you piss yourself” elbow; just a little something to let him know I wasn’t going to be bullied out of my spot. That was pretty much all it took, so sadly, this story is way less interesting than the last two.
But yeah, I need y’all to tell me why not-so-tough people decide that they want to grow a pair of balls when they see me. Is it the curly hair that says “this guy can’t fight“? Maybe it the fact that I’m 5’8″ tall on my best day, even while wearing snow boots and four pair of socks? I personally think I’m just too friendly and approachable. Ah well. I’m not changing that. I’d rather go through life with a smile on my face, than walk around looking miserable and pathetic.
Oh yeah, if you read this far, vote for me in the Technology category of the Black Weblog Awards. There is an actual award show this year, so if I win, I get to give a speech. If I lose, I get to go onstage and Kanye someone else’s speech!