Two

A friend of a friend has anger problems. He swears with a passion and as if there were no tomorrow when things don't go his way, and blames his parents' genes and a behavioural syndrome his doctors never mentioned and that he discovered while watching a TV show on A&E. It's not like he really has it -- he just found out about it a week or two ago, and tries to free himself from any responsibilities by saying that it doesn't depend on him and it just happens. It's always easier to blame our behaviour and lack of will power on scientific facts, no? Things that go beyond our control... our understanding and incapacity to understand ourselves.

He missed his bus today and stood at the bus stop for an extra half hour because the busses in Pickering run every 30 minutes, and spent 15 of them swearing in his mind; regretting, and wishing, and complaining, and thinking of what to say to the next driver because he could swear that it wasn't him who was late, but the driver who was early.

His hand made a fist held his cellphone tight, and the thought of screaming crossed his mind, or throwing the cellphone across the street, or kicking the garbage can... Come on, it wasn't that bad, 'twas just a bus -- not like you'll be late for a final. And so he thought of his condition, of being uncapable of controlling the swearing, and his relaxed view on taking responsibility for his actions and reactions.

The whole deal reminded him of the time his team lost the final of a soccer tournament because he missed a penalty kick. He was a little kid, probably seven or eight, and mad he left the field, swearing -- in his mind, because one gets in trouble when swearing at such young age. While the winning team was given the trophy and his team the pity applauses, he walked by the side of the field, softly kicking the ball and thinking that, if it hadn't been for him, his team would have been the one receiving the trophy.

Soaked in anger, the friend of my friend kicked the ball as hard as he could against a wall. The ball bounced and he tried to catch it but missed and the ball hit his pinky. Ah, the pain! The anger! And the pain again! Oh, yes, and the dislocated pinky.

"Maybe I should try to control it".

Reviews

[Star Catcher]

Heh. Got what was coming to him, but I still feel bad for the guy. That's gotta hurt.