Some Times I Wish I Were Bruce Lee
I'm not a violent guy. I haven't been in a fight since the 8th grade, and even then I was ambushed -- I didin't even start it. I'm about as much a "live-and-let-live" kinda person as you're likely to meet. I am profoundly indifferent toward other people. I'm big on minding my own business.
But there are people who don't return this courtesy. There are people who think it is their right -- even their duty -- to disrespect other people for absolutely no reason. When I say "disrespect" I mean everything from smirking and pointing at to physically attacking a person.
These people make me entertain very violent, ugly fantasies. These are the people who make me wish I knew martial arts. Bruce Lee and I share a birthdate; maybe that has something to do with it. But some people, I really think, desperately need an ass-kicking. Sometimes I want to be the one to give it to them.
There was the wasted homophobe who screamed at me on the train "YOU FUCKING FAGGOT, I HOPE YOU DIE OF AIDS YOU FUCKING FAGGOT" over and over while his posse held him back from beating me to a pulp. If his friends hadn't been there, the guy would've torn my throat out. The pure burning hate in this man's eyes was something to see. Then their stop came and they dragged him off the train, but not before he threw his 40 oz at me.
Had I the skills of the mighty Bruce Lee, would I have been wrong to demolish his jawbone with a well-placed kick?
There was the "punker-than-thou" dirtbag chick who came up out of nowhere in a bar and pulled my nose-to-ear chain out of my face because she didn't like my band. Would it have been wrong for me to crack her in the head? I know it's not cool to hit girls, but I didn't really want to hit her anyway -- I wanted to break the bottom off a bottle and stick it in her face.
There was the group of frat boys standing in front of the club. When I walked past, one of them yelled "F. A. G.!! F. A. G.!! F. A. G.!!" over and over. I took the high road and ignored this loser -- but, had I been Bruce, maybe I would have turned around dealt him a swift rain of efficient blows, leaving him in a bloody, pathetic heap on the sidewalk. Maybe an encounter like that would have made him think twice in the future about disrespecting strangers in the street. Would that have been such a bad thing?
Sometimes people bring out the worst in me. I feel like some people are a waste of life, a waste of blood and organs, a waste of oxygen.
Is this wrong?