So today pulling into Stop and Shop, this lady cut me off and nearly drove into me, and then, when I tried to pass her, she swung to the right and nearly hit me again, and then flipped me off.
So somebody is having a bad day and taking it out on me. That’s fine. It’s harmless, and I don’t know what’s going on in this woman’s life. I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt she’s not just a piece of shit and is just having a bad day.
But then I park and she follows me, and gets out of the car and starts swearing at me and getting in my face.
Now I go from “indifferent” to “I’m gonna fuck with this woman’s head.” Now I would say I’m a gentleman of size, and in all black and bemohawked I probably look spookier than I actually am, so props to this lady for getting in my face. Now of course I’m not going to hit her, or even threaten violence. That’s shitty. Nobody should get threatened with violence.
Instead, I take a step back, narrowing my eyes like I’m studying her face really closely, and then I touch one of the several piece of “occulty” jewelry I’m wearing (none of which, by the way, are magicked in any way at all). Then I mumble some nonsense under my breath, and then make the fig gesture and the horns at her.
She stops, wide-eyed.
“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO TO ME?”
I chuckled, and shake my head. “Nothing at all.” I say in a not-terrible convincing voice. “But every time something bad happens to you today, you’re gonna be thinking of me.”
I love autumn for a lot of reasons.
I love the food. I love the fashion. I love the weather.
But I mostly just love the vibe of magic that hangs in the air. Whether it’s the golden leaves against the crisp blue morning sky, or the sudden strange wind under a full moon, it’s there. The magic is there.
The other day I was washing my hands and another woman came out the stall a couple seconds after I did. She wasn’t cis, and a different woman waiting for someone to finish up looked angry and opened her mouth to say something. Before she could, I smiled real friendly a this woman who’s just trynna wash her hands and told her I loved her skirt, and we started talking clothes.
The waiting woman was still clearly pissed but she didn’t say anything because she knew I wouldn’t have her back. That’s all it took to keep some poor lady just trynna scrub up from getting harassed.
Sometimes doing the right thing is really hard and kinda scary. Other times all it takes is making it clear that you won’t support someone’s nastiness. It’s a little enough thing to do your part.
