You Mad Bro? It’s Not My Fault That I’m Better Than You: A Story of Jealously at Its Finest

Last night I went out to my local nightclub for another evening of tearing up the dance floor and also meeting women. It was an “all white” party, and I haven’t been to one of those in a while, so I was relatively inconvenienced that I had to throw together a special outfit for the occasion, since I was tired and had a long day. Anyway, I was in a good mood on my way over—cruising down the road with my windows down and blasting obnoxious loud hip-hop music (yes, I’m one of those and if you don’t like it then too bad for you).

I arrived to the venue and of course I was dressed to the nines, and was pretty much more dressed up than every other guy there, since most of them just had t-shirts on. So as you can imagine, when I waltzed through the entrance of the club, I really made a statement. But, the thing is, I am a very humble and modest guy. I’m not a bragasaurus and I will never overtly verbally shove something in someone’s face just to get satisfaction from it. The only people who do that are the pathetic, desperate, attention-whores of the universe: the bottom-feeders who feed off of other people’s reactions to them. As you’ll see by reading on, last night I met one particular dumb fuck who perfectly categorized himself into the “Nobody’s looking at me, where’s my blankie?!” class of unmitigated stupidity.

I walked over to the bar and got my usual drink that the bartender now has memorized, and so I don’t even have to say a word. Literally, the second I walk through that door, my drink is already made and waiting for me on the counter. If everyplace had service like these guys do, America would be a different place. So with my drink in hand, I made my way over to the dance floor and greeted a few buddies before I started “jamming out,” I guess you could call it. I heard a good 90s throwback song come on, and I casually strolled my way over to the center of the floor where I would have more room to dance. Unexpectedly, I ran into a blockade (literally) which consisted of a disgusting short man who smelled like shit. He did this weird thing with his chin where he pointed it out forward, like a rooster (seemingly the DJ of this place does the exact same thing), and so he immediately struck me as a very odd man. I tried to move past him, but I felt some resistance from the loser— I wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose at first, but then I knew for sure.

He checked me out from the bottom up and then decided to go full-on creeper by  permanently standing in my way, and physically pushing me backwards in a way that was construed to other people as him being “playful.” This was because he did it with a smile, as he was dancing, to make it seem like he wasn’t serious, but mind you, I was the one who felt the amount of FORCE behind that little “nudge” of his. And there was a good amount of it. So from there, I could instantaneously draw the conclusion that with each pound of pressure behind his pathetic attempt of a push, that this unequivocally translated into the amount of desperate child-like attention he was trying to gain. And there was a whole lot of that. He had seen me dancing earlier and was obviously extremely jealous of that since he started to clear the dance floor in an attempt to “show me up” with his “moves.”

This all happened while he was pushing me away from him, and I just stood there thinking to myself, “Ok, this guy must have some serious fucking mental issues, I just tried to walk by him and he halted me, pushed be backwards with a smile and proceeded to prepare for his inevitable monkey dance to try and impress the group he was with.”

And so he danced for a little bit and sucked, then invited me to the floor, which I happily accepted the challenge. You see, I am a trained hip-hop dancer, so if someone wants to battle me, I’m more than willing to own them, and that’s just what I did. I started popping, gliding, spinning on the floor— all kinds of crazy stuff. And after I was done dancing, I saw one thing: that guy STEWING in shame and jealously because I received more positive attention than him, AND to boot, I wasn’t even trying to get that attention to begin with. I just simply responded to his “challenge,” but it wasn’t so much of a challenge for me, instead I viewed it more as an opportunity to put a useless moron in his place.

The night continued and I tried to stay away from this guy because I didn’t particularly like the way he smelled, and his face really bothered me too. But somehow, someway, I found my way back to his “area,” and the second I started moving, he VICIOUSLY started to dance in front of me and block all of my attempts break out a move because he was terrified that my dance moves would look better than his. So this guy’s strategy was to skip over to me like a little school-boy and move left and right while dancing so that I had NO room to dance, thereby creating the fake illusion that he was somehow a good dancer in his extremely fucked up mind. I had several people coming up to me asking, “what’s his problem?”

During all this, I just laughed at this guy’s absolute pathethicness with a glare of sheer pity— I felt sorry for him that he is such a loser and must resort to such childlike tactics to cover up his insecurities. Because I couldn’t bear the smell of the guy, I ended up just going back to the bar to have another drink, in the hopes that maybe I would be able to make some sense of the night. But that didn’t help— it just confused me even more, and so I left the club and went back home.

Sometimes people are just so incredibly moronic, unintelligent, and childish. This guy was the perfect example of ALL those things. I hope that none of you ever have to encounter anybody who displays that amount of buffoonery. Enough said.

-Anthony

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Posted on February 1, 2014, in Daily Rantings and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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