Sunday, 24 May 2015

Squirrelly Bitch

"Hey man you talkin' back to me?
Take him out
You gotta keep 'em separated
Hey man you disrespecting me?
Take him out
You gotta keep 'em separated"

     Some men are fit for civilized society and some men, well, some of us are barely more evolved than knuckle dragging primates.  Being a man myself, I don't think that statement is overly offensive and I also happen to think it's fairly accurate, because I myself wrote it.  I submit this Tuesday's events as Exhibit A.  A for Alpha.

     The sun, she was a-shining and I had just left my favourite Queen West coffee shop, freshly caffeinated and not thinking about too much in particular.  In fact, I can't really recall if I was thinking at all.  I'm walking down the street, headed home to enjoy the afternoon.  Coming up the opposite side walk is a wiry, sunglass wearing semi-degen who proceeds to cross the street at a brisk pace, and as he walks by me (no one around by the way), leans his shoulder out and clips me with a little more force than could be explained as accidental, considering the space around us.  We both took about 2 steps before we turned around to see what was what.

     I was just about to open my yap to say "Sorry bud" or some variation, when he starts verbally assaulting me with some high school level shit talking.  Asking me if I wanted to go, calling me a 4 eyed motherfucker (which made zero sense because we were both wearing sunglasses), eloquent phrases in other words.  The guy just gives me a verbal tirade and says he's having a real bad day and that he wants to kick my ass.  I counter with asking how us fighting would improve his day?  So I just stood there with a half grin on my face, and slowly started to realize what was happening.  He calls me a bunch of other names that are NSFW and says "I hit you, you call the cops, give me a guarantee you don't call the cops."  I respond with another, "Why would we fight over a sidewalk bump?" but he's having none of it.

     He gives me a very aggressive stomp forward, the type of move known by younger brothers and hallway nerds everywhere and I instinctively put my hands up in a defensive fashion, just in case.  I mean, I had just seen Mayweather/Pacquiao not two weeks before.  He doesn't throw and calls me a squirrelly bitch, among other things.  I try to come up with some sort of comeback but it's no use.  A few seconds and cusses later and he keeps walking, as do I, at this point amped up on more than the caffeine.  I managed to say I hoped the rest of his day went better as we parted ways.  

     Minutes later, given time to assess the situation, it becomes clear this guy crossed the street to come at me when there was acres of room for both of us and our egos.  Judging by his dress and demeanour, he was right at home in Parkdale and if you don't know what that means, come to Parkdale sometime and walk around in the middle of the day.  You'll get the point.

     Now I'll be the first to admit I am not a fighter.  Haven't had a bout since Grade 4 and since then I've seemed to be able to side step trouble if it ever popped up.  I am, however, a male and that means I have testosterone and and an overly developed amygdala, which is the part of the brain most responsible for bloody noses and bruised egos.  And I won't lie to you friends, I left the encounter perhaps 90% sure I had done the right thing, but 10% sure I pussied out like a bitch.  That might sound stupid and immature, but its how I felt.  The street offered up a chance to get it on, as they say, and my civilized brain managed to cool the situation before we both ended up in the back of a Crown Vic or worse.  Call it a win by judges decision I suppose.         

     I've always said it's the guys who want to fight on a Tuesday morning that are the ones to worry about, and I believe that even more firmly now.

     Can't help but think I'm a bit of a squirrelly bitch though.





2 comments:

  1. Well, he is obviously a piece of shit and not worth it. These days you can't do anything without the police becoming involved. Why would you want to burden yourself with that crap?

    Being a piece of shit, you are already better off then him anyway.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sluggish Cognitive Tempo31 May 2015 at 11:27

    You passed the test, hopefully he spent my $50 well

    ReplyDelete