Some people tell me I’m too timid. I don’t agree at all. The thing people see in my behavior is not timidity, but politeness. I try to be civil. In fact, it was only recently that I encountered a difficult person under circumstances that would have turned nasty had I not handled the situation with the utmost tact and care.
I was crossing Jefferson Avenue on a bicycle when a man of width equal to his height got out of his truck and approached me.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said, taking the tone of a savvy diplomat. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but if you get the chance, I was wondering if you could, whenever it is convenient for you, consider backing off my leg?”
“What?” he retorted.
“I hate to impose.”
“What did you say?”
“If you’re too busy, I completely understand.”
I heard a click from the vicinity of his head. He must have realized he was at the scene of an accident in which he had recently been a contestant.
“You came out of nowhere,” he said.
It was true. The illuminated figure in the crosswalk looked to me like a man-on-the-go, but sadly, I didn’t wait the usual ninety seconds to make sure no one was trying to gun it at the light.
“First, let me apologize for any delay I might have caused your effort to drive through an intersection in reckless disregard for the safety of others.”
“Look what you did to my truck.”
“Yes, I am sorry. It looks like you’ve got a ruinous dent on your bumper, the same size and shape as my head.”
“You’re going to pay for that.”
“No doubt I will. And also for the tragic scratches I caused your wheels as they nearly tore off my legs.”
He looked at me with the expression of a man who couldn’t quite recall how to open his luggage. If there were any new passengers on his train of thought, they had gotten off too early.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he repeated.
“Yes. Let me write you a check right now. Do you spell ‘moron’ with one ‘nitwit’ or two?”
“No.”
“No? I didn’t realize I had asked a yes/no question. Let me rephrase. What are you, an idiot?”
“Shut up, man.”
This continued for some time. Me, offering my sincere apologies and regrets. He, rummaging his mind for words of more than one syllable. The curtain came down on our two-man act only when the police arrived.
To sew up my leg took fourteen stitches, a number I could have explained to him only by removing a sock. Had he accompanied me to the hospital, I would have politely told him so. But no, they say. I’m too timid for that.
A baseball bat? I wouldn’t know what to do with it. I’m practically a Chicago Cub
Hmm, sadly you failed to realize by your retort you most likely caused the gentleman in question to have a major cranial obstruction! I'm surprised No lawsuits were mentioned as Brain fade(also the more vulgar-Brain fart) are extensive in this kind of situation! Now addressing your minor scratch( 14 stitches) when dealing with a Neanderthal be glad he didn't offer additional assistance! PS I'd recommend a TETANUS SHOT.