Sometimes I can be a real jerk. Here’s an example:

One night I was overdue on a writing project so I huddled up in my town’s library to crank it out. I was there from 9-8, taking only short runs to DD for some hash browns and coconut decaf with cream and sugar. Nearing the end of the night I was cranky and anxiously trying to get as far as I could in my project (which required reference books too big for me to smuggle out) before the library bitches kicked me to the curb. They’re all sweet and helpful during daylight but as soon as 7:50p hits, you better be making moves towards the door or they’ll make it for you.

So, while sitting at my table in an open part of the library, I received a call from my pal Jimmy. I can’t remember why he was calling but soon we were laughing about something and, while I was trying to keep my voice down (and I thought I was doing a pretty darn good job of it), I suddenly noticed the presence of some guy at a desk nearby working on the library computer. I tried to keep my voice down some more and then told Jim that I better split. Suddenly, the disgrunter couldn’t take it anymore. He whipped around and . . .

Fumer: “You need to take that outside. Right now!”
Me: “Hold on a bit Jimmy.” “Sir, I’m wrapping it up. Just give me a minute.”
His Furiousness: “No. You take it outside. NOW!” He starts to stand up and look around for help. From who, I don’t know.
Me: “Dude, chill it.” “Look Jimmy, I better split or this guy’s gonna blow something. See ya later.” “There, see? All done.”
Angryman turned in his chair, shaking his head, typing away.
Me: “Hey, could you keep it down please. You’re typing awfully loud.”
Mr. Feisty: Whipping around and glaring at me. “You know, your attitude is atrocious!”
Me (laughing): “Atrocious! That’s good! I like that.” I wasn’t lying. I thought it was a great response.

And from that point on the both of us made as much noise as possible: typing, coughing, dropping books, sighing. We threw in as much passive aggressive behavior in the last 20 minutes of library time as we could. When he left, he said, “Good luck with your project” in a half-angry, half-closure kind of way. I just replied a “thanks!” with all the cheeriness I could, as I picked up my phone, dialed my husband and walked away grinning as he huffed and puffed out the door. My only hope was that he didn’t have a dog at home who most surely received the fallout from this exchange. I doubted it though. He looked more like a cat person.

After that incident for the few times that I went to the library, I was always hoping I’d run into that guy. Now I’ve forgotten what he looks like but I always wanted just one more conversation with him. Not to apologize but to thank him. I’m not even sure what for. Aside from the fact that I have a great new phrase to throw around, I think it was just so liberating to not be nice. I’m not saying that I’m gonna be a jerk from now on but if an angst-ridden opportunity presents itself I don’t think I’ll be able help it. Because, at least it’s honest. If I was obliging and took my phone call outside or didn’t instigate him some more, it wouldn’t have been an honest reaction. Now some will argue that I should have been the grown up. That I should have been nice and accommodating. Probably. But, how often does someone tell you that your attitude is atrocious? That just doesn’t happen everyday. Well, at least not yet.