A Change In Direction

Yesterday was revelatory. I'd like to say it was epiphanous, but an epiphany is a sudden burst of insight, and quite honestly, it's almost and entire day later, and I'm just now starting to make sense of this. It could merely be further proof that my brain is slowing down, but let's take one thing at a time.

I know I can be an asshole. But, as my lovely uncle pointed out, that's not really news to anyone. The truth is, I don't like to play games with people, and if I find you annoying or obnoxious, well, it's fairly evident in my manner. Generally speaking though, I'm a nice guy who only slips into asshole mode when provoked. If you're nice to me, I'm nice to you. You have to reveal and engage your asshole-ishness first before mine kicks in. Think of it as company that matches funds for a donation. The reserves are there to distribute, but remain dormant until you show intent.

Probably the number one thing that sets me off is arrogance. If someone acts like a dick for no apparent reason, I see no justification to be nice to you. Granted, there are times when people have a valid excuse to behave like a jerk, and when I'm aware of such a scenario, I allow a certain amount of wiggle room.

So, ordinarily, I know when I'm being an asshole, because it's a conscious decision I make to act that way, and it's therefore no surprise when people react harshly towards me as a result. It is a surprise though, when people treat me like an asshole, and there appears to be no valid explanation for it.

That was yesterday.

A little background: about a week ago, through diligent research, (me wasting time on the internet), I found an online "writer's community", (their phrase, not mine). I had a simple question to which I could not find a suitable answer, so I decided to register to this site so I could ask it to ask my fellow writers.

Doesn't that sound easy enough?

I started a new thread with my question. And waited. The main menu tallied the amount of reader's views for each thread, as well as the number of responses. Over a hundred people read the question, but only one person responded. (I bet you know where this is headed.) That person posted four separate times, but none of the comments actually answered what I asked. Instead, this person (using a screen name that made it impossible to distinguish whether it was a man or a woman, which is why I am using the gender-neutral they. Thought you might want to know. Now, back to the story!), anyway, he/she decided to use those four posts to inform me of how wrong my methods were, and instruct me of the correct ones I should be using. When I, very un-asshole-ishly at this stage, communicated that I was already using the exact procedures that they suggested, and that I was just looking for an answer to my simple questions, they wrote another post saying I was "awfully contentious and borderline rude for someone asking for free advice/info".

This is when I put on my asshole mask and flew into action.

Action that resulted in a private message from a sensitive moderator, and the deletion of my response. In my defense, I didn't verbally attack the person. I did not call them names, nor did I impugn their character. It was really just me being a smartass. But it was apparently enough to upset the delicate sensibilities of the board. I was warned, and given 2 infraction points. Which really pissed me off, since I thought my response was worth at least a 6 or 7. It was damn good piece of sarcasm!

Anyway, I amended the post, rewriting it as bland as possible, and free of acrimony. You would have thought my reply was penned by an overachieving grade-schooler who never caught on to the other kids making fun of him.

That post, too, was deleted. Something which I really didn't understand.

I wrote the moderator directly, and asked why.

After hitting submit, I realized that I desperately needed to have a margarita, but was out of the fixings, and had to make a quick run to the grocery store. While there, I came across my neighbor, who was out shopping with his two kids.

I saw him.

He turned his head and saw me.

I said, "Hey, -----, how 'ya doing?"

He turned his head without saying a word, and walked away.

His son walked past me, and I gave him a similar greeting. The kid cowered and scampered away.

I wondered, what did I do? Was he the guy on the writer's message board?

I went home and told my wife. She says it's odd, because he's always nice to her. The baffling part is, I've really been nothing but nice to this guy. A few months ago, his wife accidentally set a storage cabinet on fire in their backyard, a unit that stood directly next to their house. So, I called the fire department, possibly saving them from a considerable amount of damage. Another time, when they were gone, their dog somehow escaped from the backyard. I led him to a neighbor's house, so he could be off the streets and out of harm. And just last week, their son was locked out of their house. My wife let him use the phone to call someone to pick him up. No wonder the guy doesn't want to talk to me, huh?

I kinda just shrugged off the grocery store encounter, and made a pitcher of margaritas. What I really wanted to do was go online to see if there was a response to the question I wrote the moderator. There was. Believe it or not, he told me I was banned from the boards. For life!

This is when my revelation began to slowly unfold.

I started wondering if something was wrong with me. Was I over the line with this person on the board? Did I bring this all on myself in some way? Then it hit me. How would another writer act? How would Hemingway have handled this situation? I don't know why I chose Hemingway, but he was the first person who popped into my head. Would Hemingway have apologized to these people, and continued to take their smug put-downs, just so he could stay on the boards long enough to have his stupid question answered? The answer is NO, he would have told the person off even worse. Old Ernest probably would have tracked the poster down, and beat the hell out of him.Then write a boring short story about it.

My problem is I spend way too much time and energy worrying if people are upset because, I don't know, if my music is too loud, or if I don't acknowledge them as I pull into my driveway. Well, no more.  Whether it's being a pompous asshole to a writer with a question, or just being a grumpy asshole to someone who says hello to you, I learned that even when you try your best to be a nice guy, there will always be a contingent of assholes who treat you like you are a charter member of their club.

So I'm going to try and stop worrying so much if I bother you. Or offend you. I'm not going to go Full-Hemingway, or even Full-Asshole, but I'm going to care a whole lot less about your feelings on the matter. Don't get me wrong, if you want to be my friend, that's great, I'd love to have you. But enough of the drama and head games. High school ended a long time ago. I don't even care if you liked or disliked this post. It's my damn blog, and I can write what I want. Go find something else to read.

Oh, and next time someone's house catches fire, I'm opening a bag of marshmallows.