Saturday, June 06, 2009

Aggression has its down side

All my adult life I've been a big scary man. I've had the attitude to match it too. It has landed me in trouble from time-to-time, but with age, I’ve mellowed. I’m less inclined to pull the trigger when pushed. Direct aggression or hostility are usually the only things that will get a rise out of me. Somebody got a rise out of me this morning. I regretted my response.

I was playing disc golf at La Mirada park. it was my normal Saturday sunrise game. I was playing well, throwing long and fairly accurately. On the 16th hole a threw a wild shot high and far to the right. The disc tracked toward a pedestrian path and lined up on a man sitting on a bench. My partners and I all yelled “Fore” at the same time. It was so loud you could hear the echoes. The disc burned past the man sliding along the path another 40 feet. He was in no danger, it would of hit his shoes if anything. I bellowed an apology and waved. It was the polite thing to do.

As I turned away I heard the man cuss at me and then start in with a few more choice nasty phrases. I exchanged a look with my friend and we smiled, I had it coming. But the man did not stop, he kept yelling at me. I felt the little self control switch in my head flip from normal to asshole. I bellowed in a voice a lot like a fog horn, “Are you sure you want to fuck with me?”

The man continued to send choice curses my way. I started to walk in his direction, stood up straight, spread my arms a little while assuming the traditional  male aggression stance and repeated my question. This is where people usually back off. I am a big scary man. My boss recently asked me for a picture in which I did not look like a convict. My little nieces do not give my hugs and kisses unless their moms make them. I’m just too big and I look like a Viking. I know this, so I try hard to disarm people by talking and smiling. Not so in this case, the man pissed me off.

But of course, I was being the ass. As I walked the 300 feet which separated us,  I saw him slowly stand up from his bench. He half stepped toward me with the gait of a old man. He waved me off in disgust and turned away to amble down the path. By now I could see he was in his 70s. I had scared him. His  pace was slow enough that I could  catch him with a  few hurried strides. I let him go. I was ashamed of myself yet again. What an ass.

My friends joked with me about it, they knew I had screwed up. My only excuse was that I could not see the old man clearly and he had a mouth like a street punk. But that is really no excuse at all. I could have just kept my mouth shut and took the verbal abuse. I still have much to learn.

I made an amazing recovery shot to par the hole and finished the course with a repeat of my personal best score. So all was not lost.

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