Losin’ it

I’ve been uptight lately. Sex doesn’t do it for me like it used to. I can’t afford a massage. And the bathroom at home is screwed up so I can’t soak in a nice hot bath. Be that as it may, my neighborhood is often challenging so I pride myself on self-control against all odds. But like I said, lately I’ve been uptight.

My muscles are tense. I’m finding myself in conflicts with people more often than usual. Last weekend, I completely lost it. But it wasn’t all my fault. I was having some week.

First, some dude passing me by on the street, literally pushed me out of his way and kept on walking. Wow. Two days later, I noticed two vehicles about to collide at an intersection. So, gesturing with my hand, I cautioned one driver to slow down. She screeched to a stop just before hitting the other car. Next, she lowered her window and cursed me out before speeding off.

In fact, throughout the week, I had been swallowing all kinds of offenses. And even though things were trending downhill, I was still confident in my ability to control myself. But the universe had a warped sense of humor and other plans for little old me.

So, there I was seated on a bus last Saturday. I was going to my favorite mall for some knick-knacks. Eventually, two older ladies boarded. They sat nearby. Both had easygoing demeanors joined by sweet faces. They smiled at me. I smiled back. Yet as soon as they took their seats, a disabled woman with a walker seated across the aisle started giving them all kinds of hell. She griped about getting off the bus soon, and how the two ladies were blocking her path. She said, they had “better move!”

The ill-bred woman was making a scene. As for the two ladies, they seemed intimidated. Even after one of them replied, “We’ll move out of your way as soon as you need us to,” the monstrous disabled woman kept ranting. She started accusing the women of knocking over her bag which rested on her walker. She carried on for minutes bullying the poor women who were clearly taken off guard.

The more I listened and watched, the more tense and frustrated I became. I could feel the steam coming out of my ears. The thing that really stood out to me though was how those passive women didn’t deserve this rough treatment. But they were too polite to fight back. Then I heard a pop! That was me blowing my top, and to this day I still can’t find a piece of my scalp. So, what did I do? I decided to rescue the women who along with everybody else couldn’t stomach anymore of that delicious ear candy this disabled chick was dishing out.

I stood, and for the first time, got a full view of the troublemaker. She was holding onto her walker for dear life and wantonly obese. She looked like a swollen frog with a manicure. Perfecto . . . Few mature American men can resist fat jokes. Especially myself. Hell, I once weighed 315 pounds! I know very well the secret self-loathing, laziness and round the clock gluttony that accounts for the average fat person’s routine.

In fact, I was once helmsman of the All-American Fat People’s Rights campaign out of Houston Texas where everything is bigger, including the people. In those days I led a glorious struggle in our fight for cheaper fast food, larger pizza pies, sweeter soda and more butter. In fact, I narrowly escaped more than one attempt on my life by zealous supporters of the Committee for Realistic Portions. But I digress.

So, I decided to walk by this fat lady and rudely brush against her walker to see if she would take the bait and allow me to attack her character. Of course, she responded by chewing me out as loudly as her lungs would allow. But I pointed right in her face and told her, “Stop making trouble and lose some weight.”

She retorted, “You’re not a real man.” That old Jedi mind trick works wonders with less experienced guys, but I don’t fit the bill. So, I grinned and pointing in her face again reiterated, “Lose weight.” She slapped my hand away, got right on her phone and said, “You’re going to jail! I’m callin’ the cops!”

I said, “I’m surprised you’re not calling Dominoes!”

Finally, the bus pulled into the shopping mall complex. It was the last stop. Everybody getting off the bus was looking at me confused. They seemed disappointed. As if I should have known better than to meet a troublemaker on her own terms. Looking back now, I know they were right. I should have known better. And truthfully, at no point during my confrontation with that human frog did I feel good about myself. But once I got going, I couldn’t stop myself. I lost control. I played myself. It was counterintuitive, ugly, and embarrassing. I felt horrible about it a full week later.

I can point to many reasons for why I lost control and behaved the way I did. A bad day, a bad environment, lower back pain, etc. These are all excuses that fail and fall short of the character I’ve aspired to. When I decided to avenge those two women, I crossed the line. I swapped my composure for the cheap thrill of getting even. But I didn’t change that lady, make her think or consider how she had perhaps brought this harangue on herself. I only changed myself for the worse by deviating from the craft of temperance.

Perhaps the worst thing about it was that after I behaved in such a way, I lost some respect for myself. So, I felt like I needed to earn my own trust again starting from scratch. My warning to anyone cooly observing the human condition is this: facing off with the riffraff is not worth the descent. It’s only a slow and painful failure of reason that counts you as an unwitting asset to the evil doers among us. You become less worthy of protection and security from these characters when they consider you their ‘friend.’

This much is obvious: self-control is crucial to peace of mind. I’m not pontificating. I’m just pointing out what we can all affirm is true through trial and error. Avoid the error of losing your cool and your soul will endure less trials.

A disclaimer: I have nothing against my fat friends out there. During this post some low hanging fruit presented itself and I nibbled. Only take my analogies of self-control and nibbling to heart and avoid unhealthy choices. That’s a weird way to end it, but I have other things to do and I’m going to leave it there. Stay up playa!

Call 866-903-3787 if you need to talk to someone about your mental hygiene. Or call 988 if you feel like a danger to yourself.