I saw two fat fucks harassing a little boy in broad daylight on the sidewalk whilst driving home from gym last week. (If you’re a bully, you don’t deserve any respect, so I can call you what I want!) I was still pumped from my session with a 15 pound dumbbell. I had my red face on which is when surplus blood flush your face as a result of strenuous exercise, and hasn’t returned to the places in your body where it’s needed most. My looks was further enhanced by wet hair and a glistening body which sounds a lot more appealing than the actual visual. I basically looked like the love-child of the Red Skull and Aqua-man, after a shower.
Feeling strong and tired, I did what any other person would do, I hooted. Twice. The two fat assholes just looked at me as if I was the one who was committing a crime and then had the audacity to continue with their attack on the little guy. Needless to say, I ripped off my shirt, forgetting that I wasn’t wearing a suit of any kind and sped across the street. I was in hero mode. I even parked my car in a no-parking zone. I’m such a rebel! I got out slowly because my legs was still pissed off with me for making them do squats and lunges. My imaginary cape was bellowing in the wind. I locked my door because I live in South Africa and I wasn’t prepared to walk home.
“What are you doing?” I said a little too loud.
The little fockers looked up, saw me and paused for a moment. It must have dawned on them that I was the hooting man as they took a few steps back from the little one. Was that fear in their eyes? I expected them to run. They didn’t. Stubborn little buggers, these fat ones.
“Nothing,” they said quickly, “we’re just playing.”
“It sure doesn’t look like you’re playing.” I stood in a Captain America pose for extra effect. (Hands on hips for the non-geeks) It must have worked as they kept their mouths shut. Bullies seem to learn quickly. I touched the little one’s shoulder and made sure he was alright. He said he was but still didn’t want to look at me. I wondered how Wife would have handled the situation and then it dawned on me. I knelt down, looked him in the eye and said:
“Hey kid, if these two are hurting you, you need to tell someone. Your teacher or your parents, or any other adult. Don’t let them get away with it and don’t let them scare you into telling, ok? They shouldn’t be hurting you like this, please tell someone.”
He moved his gaze from the pavement and nodded, promising that he would without saying a word. I saw a cocktail of embarrassment, fear and relief in his eyes. I almost snapped but kept my composure. Then I turned my sweaty, red-faced, mad-eye expression to the little fucks. They didn’t seem so confident now. Maybe because they realised that I was a grown man who wanted to squash them like the bugs they were.
“And you two, what’s the matter with you? Do you like picking on smaller kids?”
“But we’re just playing sir.”
“No you were not. You were hurting him. If you want to play, you better start playing nice. I’ll be watching you.” Then I walked back to my car.
Who knows? Maybe they were just playing. Maybe they were not. Whatever they were doing, I stopped it and then threatened two ten-year-old boys whom I’ve never seen and probably never will again. Was it the right thing to do? I think it was, especially considering the broad smile spreading across the face of the little boy, just before I walked away.
Even if I tried, I probably wouldn’t have been able to handle the situation differently because I hate bullies! Even more than I hate Kanye. What if that little boy was my kid? I don’t think we can ever do enough to protect the innocent from bullies. We all need to take a stand against bullying. We need to speak up. We need to get involved and do something to rid society of this disease.
And to the other guy who was sitting in his car, watching all of this without doing one damn thing…Shame on you sir, shame on you!
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