when the left becomes right

“I didn’t say anything when you were seeing that girl.” I looked at him deadpan. Then I smiled. A sneer. “You did. You said plenty.” You called her a whore. You called her a gold digger. How much money do you think you have? We’re comfortable. We’re not filthy rich. The people I met that night were ten times richer than we have ever been or will ever be. You called a random stranger, a girl you’d never met a liar, a gold digger, and a whore. How does that fit in with your humanism. You enjoy letting the whole office know that you give millions away in charity. That’s why you get four different people to donate on your behalf, from your accounts. So that there is a higher likelihood of the whole office knowing about your benevolence. And then you call a random stranger all those nasty things? Is it because you think no one can ever date me for who I am? That no one will love me? That I’m not enough? “I expressed my opinion. I didn’t kick… in our family, someone dated a whore, and married her. The father kicked him out. And the father didn’t speak to the boy. The boy didn’t speak to the father. Father died. They weren’t on talking terms. In our family, they kick people out for this stuff.” Shock. He may be an asshole. But I had always expected him to be somewhat liberal. And now I find out. Great. He’s as conservative as they get. All this bullshit about Islam being humanism and the propagater of that is a wife beating, son kicking piece of shit that only cares about his reputation. Shock. I grabbed the sides of my head, nails digging in to distract from all the red I was seeing. My head started to hurt. Blinding red pain. And not from the nails. I took discreet deep breaths. The asshole couldn’t tell. He may be observant. But he didn’t care. I started packing my things. It was the middle of the day. But I didn’t care. I packed my things. He got a phone call. I left. I got in the car. I was at the light by the office and someone outside started swaying in front of my window. He started asking me, mocking, sneering, concerned, “if I was okay. Why was I so angry.” I ignored him. I have learnt that the best thing to do is to ignore the people on the street. Don’t pay them, because you enable the begging mafia to keep working. He grabbed my door handle. The door opened. The surprise came later. Now, I just roared angrily and leaned over and pulled the door shut. Immediate lock. A thud. In the time I had taken to lean over, my foot had left the brake and my car had slid forward and bumped into the one in front. The door immediately opened and a man in a button down cane huffing angrily. I reversed it. He looked at his car, and mine. The man that had opened my door was explaining the situation to him. I opened the window and said “sorry he-“ the man decided it wasn’t worth it, got in his car and drove off.