Sticks and Stones…

Sticks and Stones…

It’s been a while since I have been called F*GGOT. Well, probably not that long, but it has been a while since it has been yelled at me from a car. I can honestly say that maybe the last time that happened was in high school. [I’d like to take a moment and give a shout-out to Ronnie Peabody, Craig Fowler, Dan Donavan and one other guy whose name I cannot remember and don’t feel like researching] I mean, if you walk down Third Avenue after eight o’clock and do not want to buy drugs, you get called it or if you wear baby blue keds, your friends will call you it. As they should.

Yelling anything from a car is the coward’s way. The yeller is protected inside a metal box that has the ability to quickly leave the situation if needed.

I got called it today because there was a guy with his car blocking the sidewalk I was walking on and I walked in front of his car instead of behind it. It went down like this:

Many people including myself walk in front of his car. He yells, “walk behind me, I am trying to pull out!”
I look at him and keep walking in front because he would not be able to pull out in the amount of time it took for me to cross due to stopped traffic.

He yells again, “Behind me, F*GGOT!”

I won’t deny that my head went ‘there’ for a split second…

I reply, “Don’t block the sidewalk.”

He replies, “Don’t block me!”

I inquire, “Are you going to write me a ticket?”

He answers, “No.”

I suggest, “Then shut up.”

He blurts, “F*GGOT!”

I again suggest, “Shut up.”

The great part is that I heard other people suggesting he shut up as well.

The key to any situation in the city is to NEVER stop walking. People want you to give them change, sign this or that, tell you how they ran out of gas, buy batteries, and any combination of the sort. You NEVER stop walking because once you stop, once you give them that attention, it is all over for you.

So, I kept walking and he went on to yell at other people crossing in front of his car instead of behind, but he was only yelling “Behind!” He was not calling them names.

A comeback that I have had loaded and ready to fire back if/when I get called that or any name is to reply “Does calling me names make you feel better about yourself?” There is really no answer they can give. Seeing as I was walking away and he was stuck in traffic in a burgundy mid-90’s Ford Bronco, I already knew the answer without having to ask the question.

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