Bullies of two kinds All my life I have had to deal with bullies of one sort or another every now and then. When I was young I was bigger than the other kids but didn’t know it; I was a nice kid, who was a pacifist and loved animals. Some kids knowing this, just loved picking on me because I was a bigger kid who would not fight back, although some of them were almost twice my age and size. More than once I was attacked by someone with serious intent to do me real harm, and once another kid got together a mob to surround and pummel me. Somehow I would handle it, get out of it, and once or twice an adult came to my rescue. When I first walked onto the High School campus, I decided that I was not going to have it anymore, so from that day forward for the duration of School I made it clear on no uncertain terms that I was looking to beat the living daylights out of anyone who gave me an excuse. For the duration of High School, I was never bullied or picked-on again. As I became part of the adult world, I encountered a new kind of bully. Most of these were just average people many who were behind a desk or counter, who apparently saw that I was bigger than them; they had their own stereotype of it, and just couldn’t stand me for it; -not for anything I had ever said, done, or not said or done, but merely because of their own imagined stereotype as soon as they saw me. They would be courteous to the person before, after, or next to me, but would just decide not to extend the same to me, or to try to keep me from getting or achieving what I came for, or even taking up a real attitude with me. They knew I could not fight back in any way or speak to their attitude or rudeness, or refusal to do their job, because I would be automatically seen as the badguy and maybe even get thrown out or arrested for even ‘looking mean’ and having any disagreement with them taking up an attitude with me because of their bent. So I just became more and more courteous to try to avoid this, but it did not always work. Many others, however, were even worse. They also had the same stereotype, but what set them off was if I turned out to also be just a little smart, had my act together just a little more than most, and if I had more cash to spend than they would like me to have; especially if I made less money than them, but had more cash than they did. -See, I was supposed to be a big, dumb worthless sort who should be digging ditches or spending time in jail for –well, for something, anyway. The worst of them were very cleaver people. They used words like weapons, and aimed for the soft underbelly, below the belt, or would go for the throat. Some were just vicious animals in human skin, some had mental or emotional problems that they wanted to take out on someone else. But the very, very worst of them were people who were ‘helpers’ or people with a little authority and a chip on their shoulder. A few of my School teachers were of this sort, but usually people who were ‘helpers’ of society in some way. They had their smiley face, and wanted only the best for me, and then sometimes would use that guise as they made their little bullying attacks, putting me on the hot seat and in the spotlight to examine and question every facet of my life and myself with a magnifying glass and find every possible fault with me that they could, and would use it all to then attack every facet my life and myself. Many times I asked myself how I could just sit there and let them use these malicious attacks and insult me. Many times I told myself that never again would I sit there and let someone pull that garbage on me. But every once in a while another wanna-be bully comes along and does the same thing; and usually it is in a situation where something must be taken care of and I cannot just walk away or let them know what a complete ass they are being. Maybe all I can do is get myself in some position where I don’t have to put up with their pathetic psychological need to prove they are something by acting like a malicious little baffoon. Maybe all I can do is possibly take note of them, and when they pick on the wrong individual and get their Life savings sued out of them, or some ex-con beats the living daylights out of them, or they otherwise suffer somehow, have a drink and a cigar and a good laugh at them.
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