It's Not My Fault Your Life Sux
Two nights ago I went out in the city. Granted, that was my first mistake, but I went none the less, and let's face it, I have every right to go. I arrived at the predetermined meeting place, which in this case, was a bar of reasonable repute. I say that for want of a better phrase - bars, by definition, contain drinkers, which by my definition are largely a bunch of very stupid people, and you shouldn't expect anything other than primitive behaviour from them. All that aside, this was a relatively nice bar, and being a Wednesday evening, I figured it would be close to bereft of the usual mindless twats you would find at an inner city bar.
I had been there for a maximum of 5 minutes. I was sitting at a table, reading a text message, when a short man, who looked (and I'm going to be frank here) liked he had either a)just come from prison or b)would be arriving there shortly, leaned over to me and said "looks like you're overdue for a haircut there mate".
Many things ran through my mind once he'd said that, none the least of which was picking up the stool I was sitting on and smashing it across his head. As far as drunk morons giving me shit goes, his was a pretty tame attempt. Growing up in a rural-esque town, when I actually HAD long hair, getting abused by drunk idiots for no good reason was par for the course, and you come to expect it. Generally, that's why you leave said rural-esque town and move to the city. You know, where people are a bit more open minded.
But I couldn't help but wonder the thought process that lead to this guy seeing me, thinking my hair is too long (it isn't by the way) and then feeling compelled to tell me to do something about it. I mean, what was he hoping to achieve? I wanted to ask him if he preferred his partners with short hair, or make some scathingly witty comment like 'if you're trying to get into my pants you're going the completely wrong way about it'. But then I remembered that there was someone running around the city randomly stabbing people.
So I ignored him.
And he went away.
It's funny how those old sayings ring true.
I had been there for a maximum of 5 minutes. I was sitting at a table, reading a text message, when a short man, who looked (and I'm going to be frank here) liked he had either a)just come from prison or b)would be arriving there shortly, leaned over to me and said "looks like you're overdue for a haircut there mate".
Many things ran through my mind once he'd said that, none the least of which was picking up the stool I was sitting on and smashing it across his head. As far as drunk morons giving me shit goes, his was a pretty tame attempt. Growing up in a rural-esque town, when I actually HAD long hair, getting abused by drunk idiots for no good reason was par for the course, and you come to expect it. Generally, that's why you leave said rural-esque town and move to the city. You know, where people are a bit more open minded.
But I couldn't help but wonder the thought process that lead to this guy seeing me, thinking my hair is too long (it isn't by the way) and then feeling compelled to tell me to do something about it. I mean, what was he hoping to achieve? I wanted to ask him if he preferred his partners with short hair, or make some scathingly witty comment like 'if you're trying to get into my pants you're going the completely wrong way about it'. But then I remembered that there was someone running around the city randomly stabbing people.
So I ignored him.
And he went away.
It's funny how those old sayings ring true.
7 Comments:
Can you give me a rough time estimate between his comment and his departure?
How long did you stare blankly at him?
I didn't acknowledge his existence, but I think it was probably 5 or 10 minutes between him talking at me and him leaving.
Well, you really made me laugh with the comments you could have given.
My Mum, who is a little bit loopy but usually very intuitive always used to tell me that people used to say things out of jealousy, hence short men would be the first to ask me "How is the weather up there?" or"Geez, you're fucking tall" - just in case I had not noticed some time in my 29 years.
So, what I want to know is... how much hair did he have?
Maybe he was putting the word on you? If he had been inside recently, maybe he missed the touch of a male??? Or perhaps he was just retarded and thought you looked like an easy mark. People...can't live with them, can't use their bones for soup.
And this is all part of the reason, as well as lack of time, as to why I rarely go out anymore also. I mean, I am pretty much as society looks at it, doing ok. I am reasonably tall, reasonably big and strong looking I guess, I am male and I am white. Yet everytime I go into a pub at night, without fail, someone will try to start something...and frankly, my days of responding to it are well and truly gone. I actually walked away from one last year where a guy thought I was too close to his girl. Of course, in a crowded bar there are so many options one has when lining up for a drink. He actually threw a punch at me that I saw very late and it got me on the chin. To be honest, I've been hit harder by 9 year olds or when pretend wrestling in a lounge room. I would have completely justified in throwing back and completely going off, but I didn't, instead I looked at him and laughed. He then took half a step back and started just yelling ahit at me, which i couldn't understand due to it being a pub with a band playing and a lot of people talking over the top of it. Eventually he walked away.
Guess I am maturing??
Jeez well done on walking away mate. I can imagine the temptation to smack 7 shades of shit out of him was a strong one. But then again, it's like Henry Rollins says "If you punch the asshole you become the asshole".
The temptation was ridiculous and to let it be was pretty much out of character for me in that situation...I have always been one to bite back like that...maybe Henry has a point
and let it be said that I am overjoyed to see you post some more recently...although you sound somewhat miserable...good nonetheless.
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