I’m A Crazy Man!
Yeah, that’s right. I’m a drooling, babbling, lunatic of a person. Well, not really, but sometimes I let my ego get to me.
On Saturday my friend was having a big crawfish boil. It was his birthday and he has this fascination with buying way more than we will eat and stuffing ourselves until we are sitting down and saying, “I ate way too much crawfish.” So we were headed to the store, and as we were headed out of the neighborhood, some jackass was parked in the middle of the street talking to his girlfriend. My friend waited about thirty seconds and then honked at the guy. The guy honked back and we drove down to the stop sign honking at each other in some sort of weird ritualistic ego battle.
At the stop sign the guy opens his door and leans out throwing his hands up. He then begins to yell profanities at our car. I, being the completely level-headed and “cool as a cucumber” person I am, jump out of the car and walk up to his door.
Luckily, the guy shuts and locks his door and rolls over to present the underside of his belly. I say luckily because even though I’m all tattooed up and I work out every now and then, I’m still pretty out of shape and haven’t been in an actual fight in years (although I have taken jiu-jitsu lately…so I’m pretty much Chuck Norris…). Actually, as I was walking up to the car I was hoping he wasn’t some badass or that he didn’t have a gun. I realize I should have just stayed in the car, but sometimes I let my emotions get the best of me. I’m a little too brave for my own good. As I’ve heard before, there is a fine line between bravery and stupidity.
With the puffing out my chest and intelligent commentary, including: “What’s up!?”, “What the fuck is your problem!?”, and ultimately befuddling, “Why are you parked in the middle of the road, and you honked…YOU HONKED!!!!”, I turn around and walk back to my car. Of course, this is not before he can yell, “You better run back to your car!” I pay him no mind as there are now a line of cars behind us and I don’t want to be a jerk to them. I’ve been enough of an asshole for one morning.
My friend then cuts the guys off and they are speeding down the street trying to impress each other with their cars and maneuvers and I’m yelling at him to stop. That was pretty much the end of the altercation.
While I do like to mix it up a bit, the complete lack of regard for my own safety probably was a bad call on my part. We were locked in some sort of testosterone war. Many of you women reading this won’t understand because it’s a male thing (although I have seen my mom drag another woman out of her car and punch her repeatedly). It’s in our nature to do things like this, at least when we are young and still have something to prove…which apparently I do. I think it’s the fact that I’m feeling bad about my physical shape and lack of adventure. Or maybe I just need to start a fight club….but the first rule of fight club strictly states that I’m not allowed to talk about fight club, so apparently I can’t invite anyone. So it will just be me…fighting imaginary foes. Which should at least be fun to watch.