Smash!

I stumbled back a bit. While waiting at the baggage claim, a man bumped my left shoulder while looking down at his phone. I turned back and waited for him to apologize.

Nothing.

Within seconds, my brain spun a hamster wheel of all of the things I wanted to happen to that man:

Fuck that guy; I hope he loses his bag.

I hope he gets slapped with a 10x Uber Surge Charge

Maybe he’ll get sucked through the baggage claim conveyor belt.

I felt angry. This feeling wasn’t healthy anger. No one had significantly wronged me. The worst I had suffered was a slight bump, followed by a quick recovery.

As for most of the suffering, I was instilling that upon myself.

The toxic thoughts and change in mood were a result of me latching onto a fleeting emotion, building it up to the point that felt good, felt right. I fed off of the anger until a thought crossed my mind:

I’m the only one suffering here.

That guy doesn’t give a shit that he hit me.

All he cares about is grabbing his bags, getting in the car, and going home to jerk off and fall asleep.

I guess we all mostly care about the same things.

Also, I have no idea what this guy is enduring.

Maybe he just read the most traumatic text message of his life and didn’t notice that he nudged me. Perhaps he found out that his wife has ovarian cancer or that he lost his job. If that were the case, then I don’t blame him for not looking up.

The chances are that whatever popped up on his screen wasn’t that serious, but you never know. Initially, giving that man the benefit of the doubt would’ve given me 10 minutes of my life back that I wasted in useless rage.