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Sub Category : LifeStyle

     I haven't written anything in some time now. To the few people that do read my story and my unpopular thoughts and opinions, I apologize. I've been busy dealing with some negative karma that's been thrown my way. It must have been simmering throughout my universe for awhile because I don't recall doing anyone wrong. Not that I'm aware of, at least. Whatever I did, must have been an incredibly awful annoyance. And had to have been in public because I ended up being in the fucking news!
     If you happened to be so lucky as to come across this fun, but angry, article, you will have read that, while behind the wheel, I was flooded with the heat of psychotic road rage. I pulled a gun out of my black backpack and waved it at another driver, on account of losing my uncontrollable anger—according to the article. 
     None of this is true. 
     This is what happened…


     Driving down Hwy 620 on my way to work, I must have accidentally cut this truck off or something. I assume this because I was running a late, thanks to my addiction to Starbucks’ iced green tea. Not to mention, I could see the truck driver giving me the finger, mouthing, Fuck you, mother fucker! But, my window was up unfortunately. I couldn't hear the man's voice yelling these lovely obscenities at me. I'll admit, my body did rise with anger, but only at the thought of him yelling at me for doing nothing. 
      I know I must have done something wrong. Otherwise, this guy wouldn't have been so upset.  I rolled my window down far enough to stick my hand out to signal for him to chill out. However, not all of the anger had dissipated. I looked at my hand which was giving him the finger right back. 
      Stupid, I know. I remember thinking, Great, now I really pissed him off. 
      The turn to my workplace comes up so I try to forget about him and prepare to turn. Yet, my nerves were still twitching at the thought of him following me. But, when I pull into the parking lot, I saw his truck keep going. An instant feeling of relief showered over me. That could've been bad. 
       As I'm parked, I get my notebook, headphones, book, and Red Bull and shove them in my bag. I step out of the car, but when I shut my door, there was a man with a faded hat walking toward me. He didn't look like the truck driver at all, so I thought nothing of it. Until, behind him, I recognized the blue truck. 
       Once he gets close enough, where there's no reason to yell, he starts back up again, cursing at me. Except, this time he said something I'll never forget. 
      "You gonna point a gun at me, boy?"
      I had already been walking towards the door in order to lick him out, but I stop dead in my tracks when I heard this. 
     "Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about, old man?" I had to get him back for the "boy" comment. 
     We begin to argue back and forth for a minute. Then he threatens to call the cops, in which, give him the go-ahead. I end up licking the door until he leaves, which he did. But not after he takes pictures of the inside and outside of my car. Right then, I should have called the cops. 
      A half-hour later, cops show up to my work. In front of customers, they ask to search my bag, where I give them the OK. I really did believe there was nothing incriminating in there. But I was wrong. 
      A week before, I had won a broken pistol off an online auction. It was cheap and I figured I could try to fix it up and sell it. Instead of fixing it, I ended up at the pawn shop. They wouldn't take it though. It was broken. I threw it in my bag, and forgot all about it. There it sat, underneath notebooks, books, and magazines, until I saw the officer pull it out. 
      I was cuffed, and after a thirty-minute round of questions and repeating the same thing over and over again, I was taken downtown. This was all in front of customers and employees from mine and other surrounding stores. I have never been as angry as I had been that day. 
       After spending all day and night in jail, I posted bail and was released. I went home, only wanting to forget the entire ordeal. The next day, I receive texts and online messages from people asking, "What happened?" That's when I saw the outrageously false news article. 
       Since then, I've been working with my lawyer to get this bogus case dismissed and find out who wrote the article. It's what is known as: Defamation of Character, which usually involves a lawsuit. And I'm still pissed. 
      Now, I wonder what would've been had I been the one to call the police first. After all, he was harassing me. I didn't call because it's not in my nature to call, or even associate myself, with the hot-headed fascists, known as the Police. 
      If I'm in trouble, why would I call someone that I don't trust, especially when they are trained not to trust me?
      Earlier today, I took one of those personality tests to find out details about "My Soulmate." According to this test, she's three years older, from Spain, and we get end up married. But that wasn't how I knew it was fake and would never happen. It was the fact that it had also stated her job as being a police officer.