Sometimes I think I'm naive. Or stupid. Or slow. Something.
Part I
"God, you're such a fairy!"
This came from the red-headed kid with giant freckles who sat in front of me in my 7th-grade class. It was one of those cinematic slow-motion moments. His squeaky voice dropped two octaves as he spoke those words, the freckles on his face...freckles as big as your hand...scrunching and wrinkling as his mouth contorted to accommodate his insult.
It didn't have to be that way. We had been joking around before the bell rang, tossing paperwads at each other like so many other gangly teenagers. We were horsing around and having fun, as we always had. Then he threw one at my face, hitting me squarely in the eye. I must have complained in a way he found objectionable, and out came the phrase.
Then it got worse. Holding a hand over my bruised eye, now pouring forth tears (although I wasn't crying, honest to God), I angrily asked him what the heck he was talking about. What does complaining about someone nearly putting your eye out have to do with mythical winged creatures of the forest?
He belly-laughed and yelled, "A fairy, stupid. You know, a girly boy."
My heart stopped. Although I couldn't think of things in any logical sense at the moment, it was the first time in my life that I had borne the direct brunt of hate speech.
The bell rang, and we all took our seats. I sat stunned and quiet during the entire class. From that day until the end of the year, I never looked at the back of his unkempt head the same as I had before. And try as hard as I may, I just could not seem to will my eyes to become burning lasers that would drill right through his hateful skull. I never spoke to him again.
Part II
As I approached my car in the Silver Spring grocery store parking lot, I noticed a man weaving his way on foot in my general direction. He was carrying a brown paper bag. I had just seen him exit the back of the adult bookstore adjacent to the oriental grocer I had just visited, and I began to speculate as to what type of videos he had rented. From his mean, disheveled look and inebriated stagger, I imagined it probably wasn't an instructional video on tantric massage or a how-to program on bringing your wife to multiple orgasms.
Based on the vibe I was receiving, I decided to alter my course through the parking lot ever so slightly to avoid the risk of ending up in this man's swerving path. As we drew nearer to our respective vehicles, I realized he was headed toward the giant 1970s-model Buick parked next to my shiny, 2-month-old, samba green Honda del Sol. It was my 30th birthday present to myself, and it was my pride and joy.
As we got closer to our cars, the man's eye caught mine and I noticed him scowl hatefully. He reached his car first, unlocked the massive door and pulled it with drunken force into the side of my new Honda. I stood shocked for a second, wondering if I should let it go or risk saying something.
Little Angel Sandy on one shoulder whispered, "Just go home and make your sushi. It's not worth getting worked up over."
Little Devil Sandy on the other side screamed, "Kill the bastard!"
The good Libra that I am, I compromised and walked over to the passenger side of my car to check out any damage. Sure enough, there was a big ding and the paint had been severely scraped. Looking at the damage, I felt my pulse quicken and blood rush to my head. I looked over at the man in the Buick and knocked on his window. He cranked it down and gave me a questioning glare.
"Excuse me, but do you realize what you just did to my car? LOOK!" I pointed at the desecration.
His foul breath slapped me in the face as he spat, "Yeah? Well get some fuckin' side-body molding, buddy!" He angrily rolled up his window and reached to put his car in gear.
I stood for a brief moment, bewildered, and quickly rapped on his window again.
"Sorry?" I asked. "What is side-body molding?"
He gave me an incredulous look, his face slackening for a second. Then the nastiness returned and he screamed as he sped off, "Look it up in a fuckin' dictionary!"
When I got home, I did just that.