I dealt with an asshole on Friday.
Let me explain.
On Friday, I visited my old coworker, who is now working in a near empty office. I had some stuff to pick up and while I disliked my job and upper-management, my co-worker was lovely. We have four parking spots available, two tandem spots. One was taken in full, two cars back to back, the second tandem area had a homeless man posted up and unwilling to move. We share the back parking lot with a couple other businesses, and people park in our spots all of the time. It's always been implied that with the well placed notecard with information, it's never been an issue to park somewhere else, at most a minor inconvenience, and as far as we know, we have always gotten along with the businesses around us.
Expect I apparently had never parked in Bret Witke's spot before. I left a note with my phone number, but the guy came barging into the office, started asking me "who the fuck I thought I was" and that he didn't care that "[I] left a fucking note." Basically, a shit load of the word fucj thrown around while he yelled his head off.
It was... jolting, to say the least, and if I wanted to elaborate more, it was a serious overreaction for something I tried to avoid in the first place.
It made me think about how much we celebrate assholery in this world. I was bingeing House when this encounter happened, it's made me evaluate whether I actually still like House if he were a real person. Same with Sherlock or the president in Veep, etc. etc.
It's also made me rethink a lot about who I was. The incident was jolting, but nothing I could argue against him for. He disrespected me, screamed at me in front of people, and I thought I would have been stronger than I was.
It's made me think about how much I don't say every day. Maybe I should tell people what I really think more, or fight more, love more, but displaying emotion is a difficult task and I'm not sure how to do it right. It's just something to work on, I suppose.