It started as a misunderstanding. I know this. It doesn't matter.
A friend wrote a funny post on his Facebook page. I commented--it was an inside joke between us. One of his friends (an idiot--I have no doubt), wrote a long rant, in which he called me "fat boy."
I haven't been called fat or fat boy, not to my face, anyway, in a very long time. I mean, I'm 44. Don't get me wrong. I know people make comments. But still, calling me fat boy? On Facebook?
What was weird was, I felt as though I were right back in fifth grade. I really did. Still do. But I'm not. I'm 44. I'm a fat man, not a boy. Here's how I feel. The dude is lucky he's in New York and not in LA. Because I seriously would kick his ass. I mean it. It wouldn't really be about him. Right now he represents for me all the asshole bullies who ever called me names.
It's surprising how fast I can go from middle-aged lawyer guy to fifth grade object of ridicule.
I'm doing my best. I'm not a loser. He's an asshole.
So I had a healthy breakfast and went to work. I did not feed the emotion. Food is for hunger, that's all. But goddamn. Seriously.