The holidays tend to make most people a tiny bit more insane than usual. We’ve too much to accomplish in too little time. We’ve too little money to purchase the multitudes of gifts that are expected from kids, work, social organizations, and that little voice in the back of our head that keeps saying we haven’t shown enough love via material goods. We’re expected to be jolly and full of the spirit no matter what the hell is going on in our lives. Lines are too long, service is not good enough, parking is not to be found, and everyone is sold out of the one gift that the kid absolutely has to have this year. So, yeah, we get insane.
That is absolutely no excuse for taking out your frustration on someone else, but we’ve all done it. A store clerk. The guy behind the customer service window at the post office. The check-out girl at the grocery. The kid’s teacher. Some poor schmoe in the parking lot at the mall. Some more-or-less stranger who just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and we go full-out ape-shit on their ass.
An unexpected verbal attack can be just as damaging as an unexpected physical attack. Sure, the scars are on the inside instead of the outside, but it still hurts and it still destroys ones trust on ones fellow-man and it still f**ks with your head in a major way. The goddamn screamer feels better for the screaming and goes tra-la-la-ing down the street, but the victim has to carry this shit around and try to figure out the “why” when most of the time there is no real “why” except the screamer is an ass-wipe and a shit-head and doesn’t deserve to breathe air.
I used to be one of those screaming people. I didn’t like my life, and I loudly took it out on anyone I felt I could get away with. And I knew how much I was hurting other people, because I could see that they were often visibly shaken by the time I finished my ranting and raving. Because crazy is terrifying, and when you get to witness it right up close and in your face, your whole f**king world view changes.
On my journey to Becoming Angel, over the past several years before the wings actually started sprouting and all, I’ve mellowed and recognized the immaturity of my ways and had that type of screaming crazy up in my own face and seen from this side just how much damage it does. I now reject that behavior.
Becoming Angel has perks associated with the power and responsibility. An Angel is supposed to help guide humans toward making the world a better place, in small but significant ways. So now, when I observe some ass-wipe going bat-shit crazy in someone’s face for apparently no reason except they feel they somehow have a right to destroy someone else’s day, I simply pull back the baseball bat I carry with me, take aim, and attempt to literally knock their head off their shoulders.
Usually, the result is only to knock them unconscious, (I’m not terribly athletic), and I make my exit in the aftermath, and I realize they probably won’t have any idea what prompted their “attack” as they’ll call it on the local evening news that night. But my working theory is that they’ll associate the pain and throbbing of that large goose-egg on the side of their head the next time they open their gob and start to verbally attack someone new, and that memory with effectively shut them the hell up. In theory.