Instincts

Walking down the street yesterday, I passed a man.  He didn't really register on me at all, as I was thinking of robots and spaceships and the like and just listening to the ol' iPod.  We passed each other with plenty of distance between us, at least five feet.  He started swearing ("Yeah, bitch" and such), but it wasn't yelling and I assumed it was just him on his phone or just talking to himself.  Then I heard him running towards me.

I honestly still did not think it was directed at me.  But then he swung out in front of me and came up close.  I think the kids would say "he got in my face." Pure anger and aggression.

"IS THERE A PROBLEM?!"

"Wha... what?"

"IS. THERE. A. PROBLEM?"

And these are the following things, in order, that rapidly ran through my brain.  I'm not kidding.

"Yes.  The Middle East is still a mess.  What's up with that?"

"Yes.  Shuffle keeps playing Abba songs.  It might think I'm gay."

"Man, don't get me started.  I have intimacy issues, for a start."

"I don't know, but with team work I am sure we can get through it."

"Look.  I have no idea who you are. I have never met you.  I don't give a rat's ass about you.  If there is a problem, it's you.  But if you wanna talk it out, I have a few minutes to spare."

I went with, "No!  No problem!" and tried to look scared, flustered and intimidated (all of which I was).  He nodded hard. "Then keep walking!" (which was what I had been doing.)  And he went the opposite direction.

Improv has definitely made my brain quicker.  It may get my ass kicked some day.

Blocks later, I kept looking back over my shoulder.  Not because I was scared he was going to come at me again.  I just suddenly became very curious about what the potential problem had been.   I still want to know.

Later last night, I rammed my foot the metal leg of a bed.   It hurt extremely bad and I started to yell "God damn it!"  Even in my pain, I began to play with my voice and developed it into a new character.  My toes looked fine, but this morning in the shower I discovered that I had cut myself between the smallest toes.  Blood had congealed into a black-brown mess.