A SPECIAL PLACE IN HELL FOR…
See, I watch this video and I just don’t know.
That’s because I’m watching from a third perspective. Reality from a third perspective can be entirely different from a first person perspective.
A while back (1990s), my wife and I were at a minor league baseball game where, between innings, they were shooting shirts at us (I actually didn’t give a shit about the shirt, planned to give it to a friend who couldn’t make it). We were all having a good time, good spirits, great night out with friends, and I was in the excitement of the moment. One of the girls with a shirt shooter told us all to get ready for more shirts, so I stood up with the rest of the crowd, ready to grab one of those suckers the moment it shot my way.
Then it happened! One of the shirts flew right at me!
A bunch of hands shot up!
I stepped forward and out of all those hands, mine grabbed the shirt with the strongest grip!
That stupid, meaningless shirt.
I turned holding up the “prize” and my friends all had happy expressions of triumph!
Yes! I win!
… all of my friends except for my wife.
“You stepped right in front of that lady!” She said in my ear.
Me: “I What? What lady?”
Luz (pointing): “Her, right there. You body-checked her!”
Me (totally surprised): “I DID?!?”
There was a woman two rows down. Her back was to me, but she had her child with her, a boy, who looked back at me with a “You’re an asshole!” expression written on his face.
I was so focused on that stupid f*cking shirt that I didn’t see her or anyone else but the cloud of hands all around mine. My victorious hand.
So I went back down to where she was, shirt in hand, and when I got her attention, I punched her right in the face shouting,
“BITCH, DON’T YOU EVER F*CKING TOUCH MY SHIRT!”
(Thank yew, thank yew, I’ll be here all week! And be sure to catch me next week at the Blue Canyon, Nyack Airport Lounge!)