Fight or flight?

I'm eensy weensy. I'm little. I'm smaller than average. However it can be phrased, I am that. A bitch? Yep. I run my mouth like I have a huge pair of testicles and some karate chops to back it up. But I don't. No big testicles, no karate moves. This is why I don't fight. Don't get me wrong. I really do wish I could cave a kid's face in with a single punch or choke someone out on command. Those things would be really useful to me and I'd probably already be in prison for slapping the shit out of some of the people I've met. But I know that if I could do those things, I probably wouldn't run my mouth so much. I wouldn't have to. I'd be more secure with how little I am. I wouldn't constantly have to belittle and embarrass people in a pathetic attempt to be respected. Maybe. I'll never be bigger (taller) so we'll never know. Unless, of course, my prayers to all the gods are answered and I get this second puberty I've been wishing for (I don't think the first one ever really happened).

Today I was standing outside my apartment watching people be ridiculous. It's really what I live for. The old drunk guys in front of the building were up to the same shit, playing loud Puerto Rican music, drinking beer, staring at girls that are much too young to be stared at, and whistling for no apparent reason (why can old Latin men whistle so damn well?). Normally I'd sigh and shake my head but today I smiled, they seemed like they were really enjoying themselves. I can't take that from them.

Three teenagers across the street arguing really caught my attention. I'm not a fan of teenagers. I hate them. Even when I was a teenager I hated teenagers. And as you can probably guess, I hated my teenage self. A lot. (Still do.) There were two boys and one girl which are the key ingredients to showing off, arguments, and fights (even when teenagers turn into "adults"). I couldn't make out what they were saying but I noticed that the girl had a smart phone (instead of buying your kids $300 phones, start buying them books) and was pointing it at the two boys. All of a sudden the two boys backed up, raised their fists, and started circling. Fisticuffs. But as one of the boys got closer to the other he pulled down his pants. HE PULLED DOWN HIS OWN PANTS. And charged. The other kid backed away and yelled, "Oh damn. I can't fight you with a boner on my leg." The kid with his pants pulled down stopped. They both laughed. Well. We all laughed.

I'm not sure what the argument was about. I am completely convinced that the kids were actually going to fight until one kid whipped out his shooter. When I thought about this later (the fight, not the kid's "shooter") I realized how genius the idea was. I've been told that if you ever get into a fight and you think you're going to lose, just act crazy. (Actually that advice is from several shitty movies.) So my idea (and many other small men, I'm sure) was always to "whip" out my peter if all hell broke loose. It never has, so I never had to test it out. But apparently it works. So I guess I learned something from a teenager today. I guess this is why people have children.

Painting by my friend Laura Collins. Here is a link to her blog.

Belittle. I really hate that word. Can you guess why? Actually maybe that will be my new rapper name. B-Liddle cuz I be...liddow...