Ever have dinner with a bunch of assholes? Couple weeks ago, I went to dinner with some acquaintances. I didn't know the woman, a financial planner, who had been on a hike I'd gone on would be there, otherwise I would have bailed like hay. Unfortunately, she was not the worst of the six peeps around the table in the grimy hot pot restaurant.
One of the main themes I explore in my book, Nightfall, is ego. I had gotten a real lesson of what ego really was during my stint teaching at the martial arts school that I used to attend. Of course, they taught not to have one, but they were of the school 'Do as I say, not as I do', which was one of the main reasons I left.
In Nightfall, I don't preach about not having ego, nor do I preach about having one. Certain characters will fall due to their ego, and certain characters prevail because of it. And as a writing guideline, I don't lecture about it, but show how ego can affect each characters' actions and the consequences that befall them.
In real life, ego plays out in different ways. I'm a huge UFC fan. By his legacy, Anderson Silva is considered the greatest of all time MMA fighter. He holds the longest winning streak in the UFC, is one of the most feared fighters, and seems to have skills beyond the normal human being. According to him, his showboating in the cage is just who he is. I think it's part of his mental game, taunting his opponents' mind to make a mistake. I always attributed that to his ego, and he's been successful at it. That was until he fought Chris Weidman, who knocked Silva out while he showboated. Now, Weidman had admitted that Silva's showboating pissed him off and caused him to throw caution to the wind and sling punches, something that Silva wanted. But this time, Silva got caught. So is ego bad?
At dinner, the guy who chose the restaurant was a total dickwad, DW. He asked a new transplant to the City how long he'd been here. A couple months, but he'd been to San Francisco six previous times to interview for jobs. DW asked if they flew him here, and the new guy acknowledged. Laughing, DW stated that if he'd been the interviewee, they would have flown him out dozens of times, touting his intelligence. I knew that DW thought he was smarter because he stated so and even called the guy stupid. If this was DW's sarcastic attempt at joking, he fucking sucked at it.
Then he turned his attention to me. Ooh, a challenge. Somehow we got on the subject of same sex marriage, and I told everyone at the table that I supported it. DW asked me why. What business do I have telling someone what they can or cannot do, especially when it doesn't affect me. He scoffed and stated that a lot of things people do don't affect me. Whoa, he is smart.
"What if someone shoots and murders another person," DW asked.
I wanted to tell him that it still didn't affect me, because I assumed the threat wasn't immediate to me. But I didn't think he would have understood that, so I stated that's an extreme situation, and the threat is real if that murderer turned their attention to me. Even then, he didn't quite accept my argument, but agreed it was extreme, and was upset that it didn't support his stance.
The financial planner then argued, "Well, they're stealing money from me?"
Since Thelma and Louise, I'm pretty ignorant when it comes to gay couple criminals, and asked what she meant. I know. They weren't lesbians.
DW applauded her and threw her argument in my face. She explained that married couples have tax benefits, and therefore, are stealing money from her by not paying more taxes. Geezus Kryst.
"Couldn't you say the same thing about heterosexual marriages?" I threw back.
"No, because men and women have been getting married for thousands of years," she assured. What do you call a female dickwad? Dickwaddess?
DW aplauded again, then asked me if I was gay. Before I could answer, he accused me of being gay. Before having the opportunity to react, DW then asked if I like butts. What ignorance. I couldnt believe he was gay bashing me. But I admitted I was a butt man, as that is my favorite part of a woman's body.
"You better stay away from me, man. I don't want a reputation," DW said, showing me the hand.
At this point, about a thousand thoughts barged into my mind. One being that I could kick this guy's ass, and I don't say that unless I feel that's a real possibility. I know, I'm a pussy. More importantly, I chose not to defend myself, and the reason was simple:
To do so would mean that I at some level affirm that homosexuality is deviant, and that I would have to lower myself to DW's level and swim in the garbage that is his mind. Homosexuals may not be socially acceptable in some circles, which is complete shit, but that doesn't fucking mean it's wrong. Again, the thought of punching this guy in the face blared in my mind. I just don't think the public defender would do a good job on my behalf.
My ego was bruised, not because someone accused me of being gay, I mean, I am what I eat, pussy, but that this guy was so full of himself, I wanted to be Weidman and knock this asshole out. The financial planner too, but she's naturally a bitch and couldn't help her own stupidity. And both these assholes live in the City, the capital of Gay Pride. What a couple of putz. Putzes? Putzi?