Mean People

There’s a lot of mean people out there who need to learn about civility, and I’m not talking politics. I’m talking about dim-witted replicas of mankind who push aside others with hostile words and nastiness. The surly ones hiding congealed strands of DNA which never properly formed into fully functioning adults. The wicked ones among the populous reeking havoc on the innocent. The ones, whose harsh tones leave imprints on my heart and images in my brain, I choose to remember for one brief moment.

A few nights ago, I met a friend in a bar. Arriving first, I leaned against the wood wall in a large entry way and finished a few text messages. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my arm and a loud voice shouting, “You’re going to have to move. You need to move RIGHT NOW.” Startled, I looked up at a hulking replica of humankind and responded, “Where? Where do you want me to go?”

“ANYWHERE BUT HERE. YOU ARE IN THE WAY.”

And so I positioned my body between two pub tables and shrugged my apologies to those who sat enjoying their appetizers. As I waited, I recalled another screaming maniac. Shortly after cranial surgery and before I was cleared to return to work, I ventured out for the first time. A few friends wanted to treat me to a slice of my favorite New York styled pizza. The line moved quickly but I was slow. Tired already from the stimulus and noise, I couldn’t make lightning decisions regarding my choice of salad or bread. The evil pizza human replica screamed, “CAN’T YOU SEE I HAVE A LINE? TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT OR LEAVE.” I started crying. Somehow managing to make it to the cash register, I apologized for having suffered a car accident resulting in head surgery and for leaving my house.

A few years later, I’m still lowering my head to the ugly who berate before they think and inflict their pain. And yet, recently I’ve had a few shining moments of confronting the emotionally vulgar. Moments that made my head throb as I avenged justice and as uncomfortable as pulling on tight jeans. Moments which magically stretched until I could walk and talk and breathe at the same time.

I’ve learned from a few lowly amoebas that I don’t have to act like them, and I don’t have to react to them. As much I my parents taught me about love and goodness, these bullies taught me the opposite and gave me living lessons of who I don’t want to be. They played a part in shaping the person I am today. A person who doesn’t want to hurt others and inflict suffering with words or deeds. A person who tries not to hold grudges but I have to admit, I’m still working on that issue.

Call me up, and I’ll tell you which pizza place to boycott and which bar to avoid. I’ll tell you the names of the cads who work there. Then, we can discuss topics of peace and harmony while shopping for new and comfortable jeans.