Finger this, prick.
I just wanted to thank the jackass who pushed me down the staircase at the 34th street A stop yesterday.
Your actions actually made me laugh for a few reasons. Sure, you were bigger than me - by quite a bit, built like a running back - and the clothes to show it off on your 6'4" 260 pound frame. And your action - slamming me in the middle of my back with enough force to toss me down a flight of steps because I didn't move out of your way fast enough - certainly proves you can throw your weight around and bully people who are smaller than you. And glaring at me from the top of the steps and while screaming "stay the fuck out of my way or I'll break your face" just solidified my opinion that you are perhaps the second biggest asshole I have ever met.
But it made me laugh.
See, you tried to hurt me. You tried to run my face into the hardened subway stairs. And you almost succeeded - but I managed to catch part of the handrail with both index fingers a spilt second before my teeth met the metal-reinforced lip. You failed.
Sure, you might have hurt my fingers. They aren't used to stopping the full weight of my body, let alone while falling and flailing. But those are just tendons and ligaments that heal over time. They are still swollen, and I have to wear splints over the next few days, but in time they won't be stiff and painful anymore. And I sliced open my ring finger into a bloody mess as I flew and struggled for a grip on anything that I could touch. The slippery, brushed aluminum handrails are impossible to grab on to while falling in space, so I am sure my hand was sliced as it slid along. It bled for a while - mostly because I was more intent on getting my pre-work errands done than on dressing the wound. But it stopped bleeding when I got to work and bandaged it properly. I don't even feel it anymore.
But you didn't get the satisfaction of my face against the ground, a broken nose and jaw with a few teeth scattered like corn kernels on the station floor. You didn't expect my little moment of divine fortune that left me standing when you wanted me to fall. That was no gentle shove you gave me. It was full out - you meant it. And my index fingers kept you from it.
And I stood up, turned around and looked you in the eye.
Which was obviously the reason you yelled at me, like I was some kind of threat. And that little staredown we had? Charming. Yeah, I shrugged you off and looked away. I’m not stupid; I have no death wish that involves a ‘roid-raged jock at least twice my size. I don't think it would be fun for you either - you seem to like a challenge, and I’m a little too small to really be one. I averted my gaze, and then you hightailed it up the stairs. But I won't forget the way you postured with your arm outstretched in follow-through to the push. You are so Cobra Kai.
But you made me laugh.
Not just because you overflow the dumb jock stereotype. But because I understood where you come from.
There have been hundreds of times on the street, on stairs, in halls when I just want to knock people down for stepping in my way. For not seeing me as they walk out a building and into my path. For crossing in front of me so closely I have to step to the side or stop to not run them over.
For not getting out of my way on a staircase? Yes, I'm guilty of that too.
In a way, I envy you. You get to actually live that way, pushing people out of the way when they piss you off like some live-action movie bad guy without a care to the consequences. You get to do exactly what I sometimes wish I could do.
But that's not why I laughed.
I laughed because I realized that your kind of thinking is the refuge of the asshole, the prick, the fuck-face jock who’s net worth to the world is nothing but a big negative. The kind of jackass who thinks that other people don’t matter except to fuck with or fuck. (I won’t lie - you are very good looking on top of it. And there are so many stupid, vapid girls out there who go gaga over deficit-ridden attitude-pumped assholes with good looks and jock bodies that you probably fuck and forget a random girl every night. Then again, I am assuming; you probably like being the wide receiver in a game of 2-man touch football) The kind of person who only knows how to intimidate, threaten and wallow in your own personal, shallow, unfortunate world. A person who is the antithesis of humanity, compassion and decency in this world.
I laughed because I saw how silly you look staring down at me, posturing big and threateningly - after my little, dainty fingertips saved me from your first assault. You looked such the part of the fool in spite of the over-the-top actions. You may be bigger, stronger, better looking and jacked with more testosterone than me, but you didn’t win satisfaction in the least. I can see you bragging to your fellow ‘roid-jacking gym buddies how you chucked a four-eyes down the stairs. But I bet you change the story, leaving me unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding. You are the type of person who could never lose - especially to fingertips. Sorry to bruise your ego.
I laughed because I saw what I would be if I followed through on the thoughts I shared with you - a WWE reject. And I thought about how stupid I would feel if my sudden urge for bloody violence was thwarted by two fingers. I wonder how dumb you felt; from the way you screamed at me when you saw I survived, I would guess you felt just as stupid as you really are.
And I laughed because I had an epiphany watching you.
I saw for myself what a fool I would be if I acted like you. And I rejected it. Hey - jackass; I wouldn’t want to be your kind for any sum of money or reward. Scum is scum, no matter how big or rich or lucky they are.
I am going to change my attitude a little, and not be so angered at people who don’t take notice of me and yield, or cross in front of me at a corner without looking, or step aside as I try to make my way through a crowd. I am going to stop cursing out random people for their inattentiveness as I walk the streets, and stop wishing evil on them when I am in a foul mood.
I am going to give people a little more leeway - not because you intimidated me in the least. But because I saw through you, and realized my attitude is not far from yours. After seeing how disgusting and pathetic you are in spite of your vanity, I want no part of your style of thinking and acting anymore. Life is too short to be a bully, mentally or physically, and hating people so randomly. I never want to be the fool shouting from the top of the staircase.
That doesn’t mean I necessarily renounce all violence. I admit I might hang out at the 34th street station weekday afternoons, carrying a glove, ball and a heavy aluminum baseball bat as if I was on my way to a softball game…
P.S. anyone have tips for wiping their bum or picking their nose with their fingers in a splint?
Your actions actually made me laugh for a few reasons. Sure, you were bigger than me - by quite a bit, built like a running back - and the clothes to show it off on your 6'4" 260 pound frame. And your action - slamming me in the middle of my back with enough force to toss me down a flight of steps because I didn't move out of your way fast enough - certainly proves you can throw your weight around and bully people who are smaller than you. And glaring at me from the top of the steps and while screaming "stay the fuck out of my way or I'll break your face" just solidified my opinion that you are perhaps the second biggest asshole I have ever met.
But it made me laugh.
See, you tried to hurt me. You tried to run my face into the hardened subway stairs. And you almost succeeded - but I managed to catch part of the handrail with both index fingers a spilt second before my teeth met the metal-reinforced lip. You failed.
Sure, you might have hurt my fingers. They aren't used to stopping the full weight of my body, let alone while falling and flailing. But those are just tendons and ligaments that heal over time. They are still swollen, and I have to wear splints over the next few days, but in time they won't be stiff and painful anymore. And I sliced open my ring finger into a bloody mess as I flew and struggled for a grip on anything that I could touch. The slippery, brushed aluminum handrails are impossible to grab on to while falling in space, so I am sure my hand was sliced as it slid along. It bled for a while - mostly because I was more intent on getting my pre-work errands done than on dressing the wound. But it stopped bleeding when I got to work and bandaged it properly. I don't even feel it anymore.
But you didn't get the satisfaction of my face against the ground, a broken nose and jaw with a few teeth scattered like corn kernels on the station floor. You didn't expect my little moment of divine fortune that left me standing when you wanted me to fall. That was no gentle shove you gave me. It was full out - you meant it. And my index fingers kept you from it.
And I stood up, turned around and looked you in the eye.
Which was obviously the reason you yelled at me, like I was some kind of threat. And that little staredown we had? Charming. Yeah, I shrugged you off and looked away. I’m not stupid; I have no death wish that involves a ‘roid-raged jock at least twice my size. I don't think it would be fun for you either - you seem to like a challenge, and I’m a little too small to really be one. I averted my gaze, and then you hightailed it up the stairs. But I won't forget the way you postured with your arm outstretched in follow-through to the push. You are so Cobra Kai.
But you made me laugh.
Not just because you overflow the dumb jock stereotype. But because I understood where you come from.
There have been hundreds of times on the street, on stairs, in halls when I just want to knock people down for stepping in my way. For not seeing me as they walk out a building and into my path. For crossing in front of me so closely I have to step to the side or stop to not run them over.
For not getting out of my way on a staircase? Yes, I'm guilty of that too.
In a way, I envy you. You get to actually live that way, pushing people out of the way when they piss you off like some live-action movie bad guy without a care to the consequences. You get to do exactly what I sometimes wish I could do.
But that's not why I laughed.
I laughed because I realized that your kind of thinking is the refuge of the asshole, the prick, the fuck-face jock who’s net worth to the world is nothing but a big negative. The kind of jackass who thinks that other people don’t matter except to fuck with or fuck. (I won’t lie - you are very good looking on top of it. And there are so many stupid, vapid girls out there who go gaga over deficit-ridden attitude-pumped assholes with good looks and jock bodies that you probably fuck and forget a random girl every night. Then again, I am assuming; you probably like being the wide receiver in a game of 2-man touch football) The kind of person who only knows how to intimidate, threaten and wallow in your own personal, shallow, unfortunate world. A person who is the antithesis of humanity, compassion and decency in this world.
I laughed because I saw how silly you look staring down at me, posturing big and threateningly - after my little, dainty fingertips saved me from your first assault. You looked such the part of the fool in spite of the over-the-top actions. You may be bigger, stronger, better looking and jacked with more testosterone than me, but you didn’t win satisfaction in the least. I can see you bragging to your fellow ‘roid-jacking gym buddies how you chucked a four-eyes down the stairs. But I bet you change the story, leaving me unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, bleeding. You are the type of person who could never lose - especially to fingertips. Sorry to bruise your ego.
I laughed because I saw what I would be if I followed through on the thoughts I shared with you - a WWE reject. And I thought about how stupid I would feel if my sudden urge for bloody violence was thwarted by two fingers. I wonder how dumb you felt; from the way you screamed at me when you saw I survived, I would guess you felt just as stupid as you really are.
And I laughed because I had an epiphany watching you.
I saw for myself what a fool I would be if I acted like you. And I rejected it. Hey - jackass; I wouldn’t want to be your kind for any sum of money or reward. Scum is scum, no matter how big or rich or lucky they are.
I am going to change my attitude a little, and not be so angered at people who don’t take notice of me and yield, or cross in front of me at a corner without looking, or step aside as I try to make my way through a crowd. I am going to stop cursing out random people for their inattentiveness as I walk the streets, and stop wishing evil on them when I am in a foul mood.
I am going to give people a little more leeway - not because you intimidated me in the least. But because I saw through you, and realized my attitude is not far from yours. After seeing how disgusting and pathetic you are in spite of your vanity, I want no part of your style of thinking and acting anymore. Life is too short to be a bully, mentally or physically, and hating people so randomly. I never want to be the fool shouting from the top of the staircase.
That doesn’t mean I necessarily renounce all violence. I admit I might hang out at the 34th street station weekday afternoons, carrying a glove, ball and a heavy aluminum baseball bat as if I was on my way to a softball game…
P.S. anyone have tips for wiping their bum or picking their nose with their fingers in a splint?