Amongst those I spoke to, there were a pair of friends male and female, where apparently the dude had just been dumped by his girl, and his friend and I flirted just a bit simply because I happened to sit near them. Okay, really she did all the flirting. Nonetheless, this guy was offering that he might kill me and "disappear" my body very easily.

So yeah. Even angry I'm not completely irrational -- the girl did end up deciding it was time they bar hopped, because my simply trying to suggest that his speaking of killing people he's just met potentially not being the best idea for his continued health. No, I actually didn't threaten him in return. I was just saying I was unimpressed, and if he was in a mood to try and kill someone I was game.

But I didn't hit him, push him, or even curse at him. They left, and all was good with that.

A little later there was a couple of girls I met while ordering drinks at the bar. One I tapped on the shoulder to get her attention. I was drunk at this point, so I don't recall the point of what we talked about, though I do recall her directing me to her friend, whose back was facing us. Tapped her on the shoulder, too.

She freaks because I shouldn't be touching her. Yes, I admit it was my bad. She continues to bitch, I walk away. Later I happen to sit and start talking with this one guy who seems to be by himself, we're having a bit of a conversation and he explains his friends are just away momentarily. Another guy comes back, and I chat with them both a bit. Then the two no-touching girls end up being the other two.

I decide to point out that I hadn't been hitting on them earlier, sorry if I gave off the wrong impression.

They? Short lecture about how I really have no right to be touching anyone, and I really need to watch that.

On my way out, I randomly touch several other people I'd chatted with briefly over the course of the night. You see, I work in a bar that gets really fucking crowded. Shoulders. Arms, kinda just above the elbow. Maybe upper to mid back. These, to my mind, are relatively neutral zones, wherein you may easily get the attention of someone who may be unable to hear you or realize you're talking to them.

Those I asked on the way out, male and female, agreed that these chicks were being just a little self-important. I was wrong to touch them? Fine. What were they in that they lack the kindness to allow someone to make a mistake and sincerely apologize? Believe me, if I'd known they were that particular about their personal space, I undoubtedly would never have ventured within ten feet of them.

So it is that I arrive at a new bar, rather seething at this point. Far as I'm aware, still not taking out my shitty mood on unsuspecting strangers. It is at this point, waiting for a stall in the bathroom, that I punch a wall.

A tile fell, tho for the life of me I could not figure out where from.

Sitting at the bar, I order a drink, and mention to the 60-70ish guy next to me that I think I may have just broken my hand hitting the wall. He turns and tells this other older guy who was near them ... this guy goes into the bathroom, comes back and shrugs.

Now. Just as I'd had to double check earlier that some guy was threatening to kill me within five minutes of meeting me? I asked the old guy about his first response being to "rat me out", apparently to the manager of the place. Like myself, the manager could find no apparent damage that I'd done -- as I say, I'm pretty sure a tile fell from somewhere, but damned if I could actually find the spot it had fallen from.

I point out to the old guy that I'm quite drunk, and have obviously not been enjoying my day. I explain how vandalism is not amongst my hobbies -- I would not be interested in either hiding that I'd hit the wall, nor in trying to escape any repercussions from it.

One pretty glaring fucking repercussion? Look at my fucking hand you fucking asswipe.

My fault, did it to myself. Fair enough. I attempt to point out still, however, that while his concern for the establishment and the walls is admirable -- criticizing and lecturing guy who hit the wall, without even inquiring why one would do such a thing, or if said guy was in fact seriously injured?

Short version: I did not beat up an old man last night. Oh, but did I want to.

I just went to the other side of the bar... and luckily there were people there who pointed out that beating up some bitter old man was pretty unlikely to do me much good in the long run. Still and all, this guy was hitting on exactly the nerve that had driven to this point in the first place. Here's a human being you know nothing about. Why be antagonistic towards them, if they've done you no harm? Why assume a superiority when there's no need for competition? Why respond automatically with condemnation rather than compassion?

Okay, admittedly: I'm maybe making myself sound a bit more noble than I was. In extracting myself from this guy, I acknowledged how it was my mistake in apparently having spoken to him at all, how I would respectfully keep my distance and request that he do the same ... and pretty much calling him "sir" with each sentence. Why do I say I wasn't exactly noble? I specifically remember the last question I asked him: "As fellow human beings, can we at least agree on this much, sir?"

"Is that fair enough, sir?" Because I wasn't walking away until he agreed to at least be civil. And honestly, I got his agreement because every time I said "sir" I was really saying, "push me one more time and I will beat the living shit out of you in the middle of a crowded bar."

A song lyric had been in my head for half the night: Death is a small price to pay for respect.

My point in all this? I ended up talking with the guys who told me it wasn't worth it for quite a bit, actually left the bar early to smoke a bit of pot with this one lesbian girl who was with them.

I guess I'm saying: I don't think that my anger gets completely or totally misdirected, ever. There's at least two guys (besides myself) who would have gotten hurt last night if it did. And while I can't imagine picking a fight with a girl (or even two of them) I can see having been much more a drag on their night than a simple tap on the shoulder. If nothing else, I could have gotten into a fight with their two boys (who I was actually getting along with) based purely on principle.

Oh, the girl whose friend said he'd kill me? She just wanted to get rid of him, I was supposed to follow her to a different bar. Sadly, I was extremely angry last night, not horny.

And the hand? Well, the thumb and three fingers are fine. Still quite likely I broke the knuckle of my pinky finger -- still kinda hard to tell through the excessive swelling, tho.

You see, really? I turn my anger back upon myself.

I did not mention the posibility of unguided rage finding an undeserved target because I actually had any intention of doing it. I mentioned it because I wished to make sure that it did not happen.

You see, it is not lost on me that these are My Issues. I am aware that none of the people I've mentioned did anything near bad enough to move me to even being verbally hurtful. They didn't seem particularly nice people, but there's no law that says anyone has to be.

As far as D-land goes, I'd read something that brought to mind some other things that only helped make me more angry. It was my hope that the person I seemed to be bitching at would realize I was mixing my own Issues with things that had absolutely nothing to do with me.

I was trying to be as kind as I could despite my anger.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must return the ice pack to my ballon-like hand.