Shoe Drop.
"....You're still a fucking faggot."
I had been in the middle of a conversation with a guy I'd met about small university towns being brain drain economies, when I heard and finally registered the comment. The douche in question had already gone halfway out the door by the time he'd said it. To flesh out, it was last call, roughly an hour ago, and the tiny slightly disheveled pub I frequent had been a veritible rainbow parade for most of the evening, with a transgender 60 year old and my favorite newly single lesbian diva about. I'd been suprised at how jovial and freaking cool everyone had been all night, and for some reason kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. So to rain on parades, this guy, who knows me, and seems passingly familiar mutters this as he's skating out the door with a trio of ladies, with my name so no mistake was made as to whom the pithy remark was addressed to. I paused in mid sentance, thinking through my buzz and pondering. Jed burst into nervous laughter. And before I knew it, I had flung open the door and barked "Next time, say it to my face." before sitting back at my stool.
The subsequent conversation was too much of a blur as I found my anger rising exponentially. Some asshat I barely remember from ages ago can assume he can randomly make comments like that to me and let them slide? I'm to be the easy mark this twat assumes and let this go uncontested? I got up, seething, and marched out into the parking lot. The group of girls plus said douchebag were in their lit car and after finding where he sat, I marched over to his open window and growled "We should talk". He made some comment about the girls not allowing him to step outside the sanctuary of the car. I shook my head, looked at him evenly through his rolled down window and said "You're a fucking coward" and moved on fumes and fury back into the Pub. By this point I was so frustrated and angry I could barely contain myself. To act on it further would be false, to cave and be as wounded as I felt (beyond the cocoon of rage)in front of the guys...all of whom are protective after the fact and mean well would be a loss of face. None of which I wanted this random memory of a person to win over me. I looked over the group of stragglers and friends that had stood upon my return, roused by my having run off after them. "I'm fine." I said evenly, still livid and feeling entirely unconvincing. I had one hand in my blazer's lapel, fingering my penknife, another ballled in a clenched fist. Jed tried words of consolation, saying my reaction was "exactly why he loved me" and why I should let it go. I found myself shaking with anger as he roped me into a hug. Jed's brilliant and entirely accepting and normally his attenton in these regards would be enough to salvage my mood, but this affront was too much. I'd go into a missive about how decent a person I am, but you know what, I don't have to convince anyone of my goodness to justify not being called slurs by random jerk.
Ugh. Its turned out to be a crap night and I needed somewhere to vent. Lucky you at being that unfortunate venue. .