Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Immaturity Rears Its Ugly Head

Tonight was not my finest hour. Tonight I yelled at a homeless person.

To be fair, the homeless person instigated it. Excepting the fact that the person was homeless, she said some very nasty things. For one, she was standing in front of the exit to the restaurant and I couldn't pass. So I said, "Excuse me, please." And she got all uppity in her yellow poncho and red plastic shoes. "Well, excuuuuse me," she said. But I could tell she didn't mean it. "Make way for the paying customers!" This exchange was followed by more verbal gonorrhea wherein she accused me of reporting her to the local newspaper and plastering her picture everywhere because we're just the sort of fat cats who pay for our meals. She continued to berate us as we walked past.

It was raining. She and her posse stood in the doorway in their ponchos and blue hoodies in the front of the restaurant. I turned around in the street, soaked now, as she spit invectives in our direction. I looked through her and said, "What's your problem?"

In fact she could have answered, "I'm homeless for one." But she didn't. She sort of blanched, cowered a bit, mumbled an apology, and I felt vindicated. A mature person wouldn't have felt vindicated, but then I make no claims on maturity.

When I said those words, "What's your problem?" I realized that I was prepared to back them up. I was ready to defend myself. And at that moment, I didn't care one way or the other how it'd turn out. I just knew that nothing gave her the right to insult me in any context.

Further down the street a homeless man asked me for a quarter. At first I shrugged thinking I didn't have any change. But when I stuck my hand in my pocket I found three quarters. I trotted back and handed the quarters to him.

I guess I thought I could postpone the "she snapped at a homeless person" karma by giving another homeless person seventy-five cents... which in retrospect doesn't really even out. But then yellow poncho lady didn't have to be smoking weed outside the restaurant and she could have gotten the fuck out of my way.

Update: The dealer kept the car overnight for observation or something. The appointment with my endocrinologist has been moved up to tomorrow, but I've got no way to get to the clinic now that I'm car-less. So once again, I impose on BF. I've offered to buy him Half Life 2 in exchange. Bartering works for us. Also, my lymph nodes continue to swell. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion! In the next entry I yell at the differently abled!

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