Anger

Sometimes small, seemingly inconsequential events overshadow our rational judgment and cause us do commit acts which we would normally find reprehensible. For example, today I successfully fought the urge to lunge at a couple and scoop their eyeballs out with my thumb. Picture this: You’re entering a building and out of your periphery vision you notice a couple walking arm in arm closing in on the same door you are about to pass through. Like a gentleman, or gentlewoman which ever the case may be, you grasp the door handle, pull the door open and hold it ajar for the couple to walk through. You smile courteously and expect the same from the couple, but instead they level such a contemptuous glance in your direction that your stupid smile slowly fades and for some reason you feel as if you should apologize. They pass through the door with nary a word of gratitude, and for several seconds you just stand there holding the door open because you can’t think of anything else to do.

I don’t know why it pisses me off so bad when people do that, but today I so badly wanted to run up behind them, kick the girl in the ass and repeatedly punch the guy in the back of the neck.

Don’t worry, I didn’t do that. I just stood there grinning like an idiot, refusing to believe that such people walk the earth. I didn’t even expect a “thank you;” a smile would have been just fine.

Tonight I said “thanks, have a good evening” to the sandwich-stooge at Subway after I received my six inch club on parmesan, and the cretin just looked at me and didn’t even bother to respond. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have that societal filter which keeps me from lashing out at all the discourteous dipshits I encounter on a daily basis. God, what I would have given for a ninja star.
Fortunately, I’ve developed a mental exercise which helps me to overcome those situations where I’m in danger of committing manslaughter. First, I imagine the offending person walking down a deserted road. They’re just walking along when all of a sudden they start to sink into the ground and before you know it they’re stuck in quicksand. Then, I mentally conjure up a UPS truck careening towards the person, and it swerves to miss them, but the quick maneuver sends a box shooting out the back of the truck and it lands right next to the persons head. When it hits the ground honey erupts out of the box in a spectacular volcanic fashion (the box was a gift from a young college student to his grandmother; he was sending her honey because she likes it in her tea) and the honey gets all over the persons head. At that precise moment a line of ants begins passing by the person’s honey-soaked head, and just then I begin to smile because I know what’s coming up next.

If possible, I also like to listen to Denis Leary’s song “Asshole.” I find it cathartic, especially if I sing along really loud and purposefully off-key. Go here to watch the hilarious video to Leary’s song “Asshole.” Bookmark it, and when you have a bad day come home, pop open a beer or pour a glass of wine, start up that video and sing along. I guarantee you’ll feel better in no time.

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