Misery loves company

I’ve never understood why bitter, miserable people choose to take their bitterness out of the rest of the world. Maybe they’re just attention-whores on the inside. This morning, for example, I had the misfortune if running into the male version of Rachel, my bitchy old coworker. I was walking to school, my hair blew in my face, so I reached up to brush it away, almost knocking this guy in the face with my elbow because he chose to place his head less than six inches away from mine as he passed me, even though I was all the way on one side of the sidewalk and no one else was nearby. So he walks in front of me and starts shaking his head, gesturing, and muttering to himself. Ensuing conversation:

Him (waving his hands): “little white bitch needs to watch what the hell she’s doing.”
Me: “maybe you shouldn’t walk so fucking close to people, bitter old man.”
Him ( still walking and gesturing, acting like he hadn’t heard me): “fucking white bitch. Thinks she’s better than the rest of us. Whore.”

I’m sure he continued cursing me out, but at that point I had to turn down a side street. My day had started out just fine, then, for no reason at all, a bitter old man with the mentality of a three year old ruined it. Fucking bastard 😦


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