The building that I work in is an odd confluence of widely different populations. Its something that I notice most often in the elevators. There is an organization that works with severely mentally and developmentally handicapped people, the board of elections, and my organization - which works with ex-offenders. I will frequently find myself staring my day sandwiched between thugs, bureaucrats and midget retards wondering exactly where I’m going in life, and how I got there.
Some of the developmentally disabled, the aforementioned dwarfs, are short with disproportionally large heads that make them look vaguely demonic. Some staff member made the same connection one Halloween and dressed them up as devils.
They will often square off with you in the elevator, giving you an intense but vacant glare while grunting aggressively. I live in horror of the day a client of ours freshly released from Rikers takes offense with that and attacks.
I ran into one of them in the bathroom yesterday. I had to pee really bad, so while I did notice that the stall to the toilet was open, with someone in it I ignored it and went to the urinal. I’m not in the practice of looking in other guys general direction while in the bathroom because I’m not gay. (Guy code, in the off chance that there’s a female reading this, you wouldn’t understand). But then I noticed that someone was stinking the place up something fierce, so I looked in the mirror and saw one of the midgets. His minder had left him on the toilet, rocking back and forth grunting.
It looked like he was about to charge me. The thought of having to make like a matador flashed through my mind... I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so vulnerable in my life.
I have since looked through Emily Post for some hints of how to handle such a situation in the future, and found her lacking. I just pissed as fast as I could, flushed and ran out the door...
What’s the moral of that story? I haven’t a god damn clue.