That Guy

He doesn’t come around too often anymore, but when he does, it’s always a scene.

I sat down and looked at him. Immediately, I recognized the man staring back at me- that guy.  He was completely self-centered and just plain mean; a real jerk. I don’t say that about most people, but this guy irked me to no end. There was never any reasoning with him. He didn’t ever back down. He would whittle a person down with his words feeling no remorse or compassion. He was loud and tried to make others shrink with fear. He drove people away, even the ones he cared about most- the ones who cared about him.

I could see he was doing his best to remain calm and keep it together. He always tried, but when he reached his tipping point I knew what would happen. I saw him wrinkle his brow. He had a headache, a sign which meant trouble for anyone else in the room. I heard his stomach growl. He was hungry and obviously tired from the day. He looked uncomfortable and I knew he really didn’t want to be there. I imagined him like a pressure cooker filling with steam, getting ready to explode at any moment.

It was hot and I continued to watch as he got more and more annoyed. A faint bead of sweat glistened on his brow, he was sweating now. He took off his jacket. Restless, irritable and discontent. Teetering on the edge of snapping. I could tell the frustration was welling up in him. It was like a drunk before he vomits- you see it coming but there’s nothing that anyone can do to keep the puke down. There would be no going back now. I couldn’t look away as he stood up. I stared, fixated on the mess, it was like watching a horrible accident play out in slow motion.

He belted out a string of obscenities, telling everyone in the room exactly what he thought of them and telling them all where they could go. He flexed, screaming and ranting, just like I knew he would. People looked confused and in fear. He fed off the intimidation. Then, in typical dramatic fashion, he stormed out of the room. He flung open the door, nearly hitting another innocent bystander and slammed it shut to emphasize just how much of an ass he was.

On the other side of the door, I stood, my heart racing and out of breath. I had done it again. Without a thought or care for anyone else,  I had hurt people who I perceived were in my way. People I thought had disrespected me. People who didn’t give me the praise I thought I deserved or was somehow entitled to. I was embarrassed. I was angry. I was afraid. My feelings were hurt. I wanted to make them feel the way I felt. I created more damage that I would have to try and find a way to repair, once again.
He doesn’t come around too often anymore, but when he does, it’s always a scene.
I am that guy.
~ S.D.


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