I was lying in the dirt and the wood chips and the sparse shrubbery. A largeish bump was already beginning to form on the back of my head from where it had impacted with the cement planter behind me. My glasses were in the dirt to my left. A very large man had a hold of my jacket. Seven or eight of his buddies were standing beside and around him. Collectively, they advised me not to stand up.

This happened last night.

Several moments before this I was raising my fist in an ineffective milquetoast swing. Several moments before that he was attempting to blow bubbles in my face with tiny bottle of bubble solution that might have come from a wedding reception or might not have just as easily. Several moments before that I was hurling a coffee cup — the sort that fits atop a insulated vacuum bottle — at the back of his head. And several moments before that he was lifting one of his butt cheeks in the characteristic manner and farting in my face.

I am 28 years-old. I’ll turn 29 next week.

This douchebag was able to fart into my face because I was sitting on a bench drinking a cup of coffee. It was about 10:30 at night. I had arrived early. I had to work the overnight shift last night. The overnight shift begins at 11:00 PM and ends at 7:30 AM. Half-an-hour for “lunch” is unpaid. Every other month I have to come in to work for one weekend — Saturday night and Sunday night — and work the graveyard shift.

I was early in getting to work, unlike the previous night when a decision to take the ‘L’ turned out to be ill-advised and time-consuming. Rather than go inside and wait out the difference in the break room I elected to take a seat outside for 20 minutes or so. The weather was nice.

I was sitting on a bench drinking my coffee preparing myself for 8 more hours of work on 3½ hours of sleep. A squad of men passed by me presumably en route from a local bar. From the looks of them I’d hazard it was a sports bar. The last one in the group stopped in front of me and unmistakably passed gas less than a foot from my face. The malevolence of this act was unquestionable.

This was too much. This was a line crossed. On one side a normal, albeit unpleasant, evening at work. On the other, barbarism. My judgement snapped. This uncivil act I could not allow to go unremarked, despite the obvious disadvantage I faced.

The coffee cup I once held I hurled towards the back of the oaf’s head. I had probably intended to splash it on him. I had probably hoped it was still hot. Scalding. Much of it became a blurry slideshow.

There was much cursing. He played coy, produced a bubble wand, and attempted to blow bubbles at me. I saw red. Not literally. I raised a fist, a worthless gesture for a wimp such as myself. I ended up on the ground with a knot on my head.

I spent the night replaying the incident in my head, imagining what might have transpired had I been quicker or cleverer. There’s no way I could have ever “won” unless I just grinned and let a fucktard stick his ass in my face.

Held down and mocked, I was humiliated just as I was back then in the halls of high school, except I was never actually physically threatened back then. Admittedly, yes, I exacerbated the situation this time. But for fuck’s sake, do we just let these walking abortions just do as they will.

Yeah, we probably do. Just like in high school, meatheaded fucks like these continue to win.

I’ve been working for a couple of weeks now — that worrisome self-loathing about not providing for my little family has mostly passed. I don’t particularly love the job, but I don’t particularly hate it either. It’s a bit below what I had been doing previously in terms of complexity, but it pays the bills (or will once I start getting full-sized paychecks). In short, it’s a Bedrock can-opener job: “Eh, it’s a living.”

What I’ve been struggling with most these past few weeks has been the time before and after work. My shift starts at 3:00 PM and ends at 11:30 PM. I take the L and have to transfer trains if I want to get the closest stop to work which can add a good 30 to 45 minutes if I’m unlucky (late at night, and particularly after midnight the Brown line runs quite infrequently).

My problems are these: I cannot go straight to bed upon arriving home, but I also cannot sleep well in the daylight. Back in my previous job I’d occasionally have to work the overnight shift (11:00 PM to 7:30 AM) when the shift was emptied due to illness. Even after staying awake for something like 26 hours I still couldn’t get a good sleep in while I could see daylight. I’m not the napping type. This means I need to get myself in bed before sunrise, but I still want to get my after work, or “leisure” time in by which I mean games, blogs, cross stitch, etc.

The fervor with which I agonize over my “leisure” activities renders the use of the quote marks essential. While at work I spend copious time considering the span of time after I have returned home but before I finally give up, kick the dog off of my side of the bed, and go to sleep. Should I continue to work on that Warlock so I can get him as close to finished as possible?¹ Should I watch my recent Netflix delivery (as quietly as possible, because the wife is sleeping already)? Finish the story I started reading on the train? Keep on playing that DS game? Read some blogs? Work on my own? By the time I actually do get home whatever I’ve decided has been worked over so aggressively in my head that it seems like crystallized un-fun, but if I don’t do it, I feel guilty in some small way.

Did I mention I get a bit anxious?

I don’t think I’m terribly high strung about it, and I’m getting better. It’s not the first time I’ve worked this shift, and the feeling that the world is looking down on me for not being fully dressed before noon with regularity is passing.

And that’s it. I don’t have an ending to that little screed.

¹ In case you are considering that I have abandoned my Dragon Warrior project, fear not! I have not. I have a small backlog of creature to post yet. I’m trying to post them in order of appearance in game. My current stumbling block is the stocking of my local craft stores. I need a few colors to complete the next batch, but every time I pop in, that store just so happens to be out of stock in the very color I require.