Officer Johnson, Cell phone police...

     I have anger issues.  I have my moments when I can be very laid back about most things.  I listen to hippie music and don't let things bother me.  But then I have my moments when the smallest thing can set me off and it just builds.  Sometimes I scare myself.  I think I scared some guy today.  And I guess that is what scares me.  He had some big-ass balls and decided to start some shit w/ me in the gym.  He told me not use my cell phone beacuse it can disturb others.  The best part is I was not talking on my phone.  I usually don't for the very reason he was presenting to me.  I was text messaging.  Which, I don't think bothers others unless they're reading over my shoulder.  He said it looked like I was making a call.  Maybe he is one of these people who still doesn't have a cell phone and thinks they are ruining the world. Maybe he doesn't know what a text message is or that these days you can do a lot more w/ a phone than just make a call.  Or maybe he just got excited at the idea of playing gym-cop for a minute.  This was his big chance.  I am surprised he didn't whip out a plastic badge he made at home, anticipating just this scenraio. So, I was in no mood for this crap. It could have been the adrenalin from working out or could have just been the intrusion I felt when this asshole disturbed my routine and forced me to remove my headphones to hear what he had to say to me.  So, I went off on him.  I started cursing and telling him to mind his own fucking business.  This is the point when I think he may have realized he made a mistake by awakening this angry, tank top wearing, meathead from his endorphin induced social withdrawal.  So, this self appointed gym-cop's face was suddenly veiled w/ a blanket of fear.  "Shit, what am I doing, starting w/ this monster?"  I  asked him if he was the cell phone police.  And this maniac actually had the balls to say : "Uh, no.  I mean yeah, I kinda am."  That is when I think I really scared him.  I shot him a look that was filled w/ genuine anger.  Ya know, the kind you see right before a fist makes contact w/ your face.  At this point I was filled w/ so much anger that I am not sure what mechanism has been installed in my brain that prevents me from acting on the urges to attack these tiny people.  Perhaps there is no mechanism.  Maybe it is the recognition by these jerk-offs at that very moment that I may be unstable and it is their appropriate retreat that tranquilizes the situation.  And that is what he did. He tucked his tail into his vagina, put his headphones on and looked away. 

     On the ski slopes my friends used to call me "Angry Dan."  They said I "skied angry."  Every time they said that... Goddamn, that just made me mad!