I hung out with a high school friend. Hadn't seen here in damn well two decades. But we got reacquainted with each other on facebook, and she invited me over to her place, and we hung out last night.
But there was this friend of hers. ... I really paid no attention to him at all during my stay, but now, looking back on it, he was an asshole. And he falls into a particular type of asshole I encounter from time to time that I absolutely despise: The Person Who Doesn't Act Like You Exist Just Because You Are Brave Enough To Enter Into A Social Situation Where You Don't Know Most Of The People.
There were, like, four other people there. They all waved hi back except for this guy. No matter; I was just taking it all in. The only time, the only, when he even said anything to me was when he went to sit on the same bench to talk to his friend. Some bullshit about feelings and, uh, I don't know, it wasn't my fucking business, who cares.
But right in the middle of this dramatic heart-to-heart conversation, one which he initiated and carried because it was so important to him, was when he warn/yell at me, I guess, when the bench under us rocked back. Now first of all, this was the first thing he said to me. He didn't say when my high school friend introduced me; the first thing he said to me was, "Don't rock the bench!" which is something normal, civilized people don't say to each other the first time out. Second of all, he didn't look at me when said this. Not only did I not really understand at the time that he was talking to me and not anybody else, but lack of eye contact is a real big pet peeve of mine. Don't like something I did (or, in this case, something you think I did)? Say it to my face, dick.
When I was left I had to circle back around in front of my friend's house. And as I drove past, I saw this prick, this bullet-headed basketcase (he was totally bald, and he was the only douche among us wearing a sweater in what was a sultry night) sit right on the same side of the bench I did not two minutes earlier. He totally wanted me gone. Fucker didn't even wait for the warmth from my ass to cool off.
These are signs of a total, passive-aggressive dick. I'm angry at myself for thinking so much about him, and after our "meeting." But these types are a particular virulent strain of buttmunch. And I'm kind of afraid what I would do, or have to do, if I ever ran into him around town. Minneapolis/St. Paul isn't that big of a city.
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