Play Nice

“YA DA-UHM PHA-UHK”

Is What I Heard Him Say …    

Annunciated phonics.

Clever.

Delivered in a dialect void of thought, reason and purpose.

I doubt Hope was anywhere to be found … and Forgiveness as foreign as Love … in his hub of a miserable life.

Brandishing Hate – at will – fermented by misdirected rage was all he could offer leaning through the open window of his pick up truck.

SURPRISED

Unpleasantly … 

By his actions:

The unmitigated harshness of words unnecessary, juvenile badgering, and egregious posture in a poorly feigned and failed attempt to bully …    

And, my reaction:

Fixated momentarily on rehabilitating his attitude, I shouldn’t have been … 

Did this Poor Neglected Bastard

“Really Hate Himself So Much He Went Straight To The Gutter Without Asking For Directions?”

Though I’m certain he knew the path by heart.

As well as I have.

LITTLE DETAILS

The Barely Mustachioed Punk … 

Okay, fine, I’ll Play Nice …  young gentleman …

With a gnarly scrub of post-puberty masquerading as testosterone littering his pimply chin and lip, was grinning his greasy smile my way.

Crooked chicklets dimmed by nicotine and neglect – crammed into a dishevelled pie hole – did nothing to filter his potty mouth of belligerent ignorance mixed with contempt and disrespect for … he probably had no clue from where his angst emanated and where it was going:

“Do All Cowards Have Cheap-Ass Dental Plans And Aversion To Good Hygiene?”

His pallor, scabrous complexion – When Pasty Flirts With Drab, Dull And Waxen Gray – was begging for a facial …

“… And, An Old School Slap Across The Anterior Cranium To Smack Some Manners And Smarts Into Him.”

But, that’s not what I do.

Anymore.

There was a time … 

When Moxy Cojones ruled my world.

IN THE ABSENCE OF LOVE

We Love Back … 

Love Those Who Can’t

Because They Haven’t Known Love.

Are Not Loved.

What I Wanted To Do …  

IT WASN’T ONLY THE NAME CALLING

Heck, The Empirical Stud May Be Right-On-Point … 

Considering his low-brow vantage point.

In three words and no more.

“Hemingway Would’ve Been Impressed With The Economy And Simple Truth Of His Scant Prose.”

FUN FACT CONFESSION

I Accept My Share In The Culpability Of Stupidity … 

I’d made a horrible error in judgement.

Taking liberty with fate the way I do.

It was a Da-uhm move on my part.

And, Spoiler Alert be damned …

Well, I was the Pha-uhk in the equation.

I’m just not fond of name calling …

Especially, when coming from the Pot to My Tea Kettle.

REDNECK CULTURE

Has Its Place … Wherever It Lives …    

Ignorance doesn’t.

Hate never has.

And, neither does antagonistic judging and harsh retorts.

I know better.

I am better.

Except When I’m Not.

I’VE BEEN CALLED WORSE

‘Gutless Swine’ …

Tops The All-Time List.

Swine, um, a stretch … Maybe Once Upon A Narcissistic Time in my early 20s.

The preferred nomenclature is Swinia.

Gutless, well, that ain’t me on my lowest day.

Thanks, Hon.

For the memories …

End Unnecessary Digression.

BACK TO THE INSULT

Do Strangers – Any Of Us, Really – Need To Be So Mean To Each Other?

Yes … because its necessary to travel through an unsolvable labrinth of Humanity Gone Wrong and Lost Dignity – for some – to feel better about themselves when dumping on others.

Name calling is convenient, and evidently, quite cheap if you buy in bulk.

Especially, when there is no threat of retribution or accountability.

No … because its just not nice … is about as much of an explanation required.

SO, WHAT HAPPENED?

I’d Committed An Unforgivable Crime Against … I’m Not Sure What The Hell I Did … 

Except aghast … drive too slow.

In a parking lot.

Right.

Thinking, I had the right of way as I pulled into a vacant parking space …

… Precisely as the Thrower of 50 Shades of Impatience was throttling his truck at Warp 9 speed …

I was coming in, he was leaving – exiting – from another space way to my left.

Road Rage contemplated as an instinctive retort.

Street Sage ensued.

This was a teachable moment for both of us.

Though neither one was in a learning mood.

TO BE FAIR

I’m Easy Prey For Predatory Trolls With An Innate Bend Towards Inbred Ignorance And Poor Judgement Of Character …  

And, I’m often wrongly mistaken for a Shrinking Violet.

More of a Smirking Possum.

I possess a mildly polarizing demeanor that tends to either:

  1.  Piss haters right off, or
  2.  Cause those tolerant of me to ignore my not always lovable disposition.
TESTIMONY DELIVERED

Obvious Marks Against Me Known To Give False Impressions To Newby Haters …  

Coiffed Hair. 

Nice Enough Teeth.

Congenial Smirk Confused For Smug … 

Shiny Volvo Guy.

I look smarter than I am, which is an inconvenient burden … more than anyone realizes.

I bathe.

I’m a non-passive Pacifist.

So, I’ve got that:

“… Fresh-Tingling-Feel-Good-Sensation-Almost-Always-A-Pleasure-To-Be-Around-Infectious-Likeable …”

Thing going for me.

Like mixing Febreze and Endorphins in a Swifter.

And, I’m borderline delusional and not all the way over myself.

Okay.

A CAVEAT TO THE IGNORANT

I’m A Non-Taker of Disrespect.

Your Feces.

Whatever the stink.

Anytime.

MY SH!T GETS LOST IN TRANSLATION

If I’m Going To Articulate My Displeasure In Something … 

Or, at odds with someone.

You’ll know it.

It’ll Be Clever, Witty … Occasionally, Biting.

And, Delivered With Pin Point Accuracy And Impeccable Timing.

SAID A PRAYER

For Him And Me … 

Is what I did.

Blessing for him.

Forgiveness for me.

Ate lunch.

THOUGHT ABOUT IT LATER

Big, Fat Regret … 

Self-Hating.

Forgot about it, then remembered.

Self-Love.

Scribbled a diversion of nonsense to Get Over Myself.

Wrote This … 

 

Photo by Pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

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