The fuckbag won, too, because it's 1AM and I can't sleep because my mind's replaying it in endless circles of 'what if I did/said this?' and he's probably collapsed in some kind of stupor somewhere. People like that are a good argument for the abolition of all men.
And this happened on a day when I was maintaining that I really need regular breaks of as few random stimuli as possible*, because going out in "normal" society is so damned much of an overload if your senses aren't completely dulled. I'd cited this as why I won't be showing up at the taping of the live-action bits for the next R&S; I'd like to see it, but the 4th is the last time I had any measure of solitude, as I spent the weekend visiting home on a tight schedule of seeing friends and relatives, then had to work this Saturday under a deadline. So I was already stressed even before I had to wait forever for my bus connection, then meet this bug-eyed belligerent.
Pacing, grousing, rehashing... none of my snide little arguments would work, of course, because he was too doped up to listen to anything I might actually have said. The idea of saying 'yeah, I'll take it outside!' and getting him off the bus, then waving as it takes off, leaving him to wait another hour, has merit, but I'd have probably gotten dragged off and ass-kicked, or his rage would've gotten vented on the next poor passer-by. Screaming "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!? YOU DON'T SPIT IN THE EYE OF SOMEONE YOU JUST MET ON THE FUCKING BUS!" at the top of my lungs has the problem of possibly scaring him into violence. Yeah, just listening to that voice that says 'warning, lunatic, get away' is probably the best... but mass transit is so crowded that it's hard to get away, and you don't want to relinquish your seat for every false alarm caused by the constant proximity.
I just wanted to quietly go home and go to sleep. But now I'm tense and angry and scared and I'm not gonna get to sleep any time soon. Shit.
* even to the point of theorizing that my detail-dropping style is a reaction to this: I have to deal with too much visual, aural, and psychic noise during the course of a week, and drawing these very simplified, evocative images is a way of fighting against it...
And this happened on a day when I was maintaining that I really need regular breaks of as few random stimuli as possible*, because going out in "normal" society is so damned much of an overload if your senses aren't completely dulled. I'd cited this as why I won't be showing up at the taping of the live-action bits for the next R&S; I'd like to see it, but the 4th is the last time I had any measure of solitude, as I spent the weekend visiting home on a tight schedule of seeing friends and relatives, then had to work this Saturday under a deadline. So I was already stressed even before I had to wait forever for my bus connection, then meet this bug-eyed belligerent.
Pacing, grousing, rehashing... none of my snide little arguments would work, of course, because he was too doped up to listen to anything I might actually have said. The idea of saying 'yeah, I'll take it outside!' and getting him off the bus, then waving as it takes off, leaving him to wait another hour, has merit, but I'd have probably gotten dragged off and ass-kicked, or his rage would've gotten vented on the next poor passer-by. Screaming "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!? YOU DON'T SPIT IN THE EYE OF SOMEONE YOU JUST MET ON THE FUCKING BUS!" at the top of my lungs has the problem of possibly scaring him into violence. Yeah, just listening to that voice that says 'warning, lunatic, get away' is probably the best... but mass transit is so crowded that it's hard to get away, and you don't want to relinquish your seat for every false alarm caused by the constant proximity.
I just wanted to quietly go home and go to sleep. But now I'm tense and angry and scared and I'm not gonna get to sleep any time soon. Shit.
* even to the point of theorizing that my detail-dropping style is a reaction to this: I have to deal with too much visual, aural, and psychic noise during the course of a week, and drawing these very simplified, evocative images is a way of fighting against it...