Hoping that Lightning will Strike Twice...

I was bullied in Elementary school, but who wasn't? Being and awkward geek for most of my childhood and adolescence I was never quick with a comeback and never had the heart to actually say anything rude to other children. In true geek fashion I always took my mother's advice. When my mother would impart her wisdom on how to deal with school yard bullies, such as "Just ignore them"... "Walk away"... or "Tell the teacher next time it happens"... I would always smile and say thanks, but secretly I thought she was totally out of touch with the school yards of the early 90s. I mean, come on, my mom hadn't done hard time on the monkey bars since the 60s.

After one my unfortunate schoolyard encounters I would mull over the incident for hours, days afterwards, trying to think of and memorize the best possible comeback so that, should lightning strike twice, I would be prepared. I was, and still am, the type that likes to be prepared for everything, so surely this tactic would prove fruitful. Surely, not. As much as I hated my mother's suggestions, whenever I came into a situation, I would freeze. All of the masterful comebacks that I spent days preparing, gone. The only action I could take, the only words I could speak, were those of my mother. Heart pounding, I would clench my fists, ignore them, walk away, and tell. Ugh, how I hated myself for this behaviour. I knew that this pattern only branded me further as a tattle tale and contributed to my vicitimization, but still I kept doing it.

Needless to say, I survived the bullying fields, and monkey bars of Whitevale Elementary and have grown into a reasonably well adjusted adult. I did miss, however, that all to pivitol step in a bullied child's emotional growth... the life changing day when you stand up and pummel the bully either physically, or with outstanding wit. Not that I was never provided with the opportunity, but I found when those situations opened up, I just didn't have the heart to go in for the kill. I remember one day on the bus I noticed that the worst of them, Davey, had bolted from the bus, jacket tied around his waist, without sneering at me before he exited. I looked out the window and my mouth gaped open at what I saw. Davey had peed his pants! As I made eye contact with Davey my heart was pounding so hard I could hear it throbbing in ears, from the look on his face I knew I had beat him. I praised God, this is what it felt like to win the lottery, the bonus word on the spelling test from that morning finally had meaing. Elation! Just as I was about to shout it from the rooftops of the bus that Davey, a fourth grader, had peed his pants, the bus driver made eye contact with me in his rear view mirror and shook his head. A shock of guilt rushed through my body. I kept his secret.

It has been a long time since I have been publicly bullied. I can honestly say that last night was the first time in my albeit brief adult life where I was bullied by a grown man in public. Yesterday I had a quasi day off. I did have a meeting to attend in the evening, but was out and about for most of the day. I planned on returning home before heading to my meeting to change into something a little more business appropriate, and to grab the meeting information. Traffic was crazy, so I decided to head right to the Telus Convention Centre, downtown to ensure that I was on time for my meeting. My outfit was okay for the occasion, so I decided to chance it. I went into the convention centre and checked in with the Administration Desk to get the meeting room number. When I reached the top of the stairs I noticed everyone was dressed "black tie" and realised instantly that I was in the wrong place. Unnoticed by the crowd, I quickly turned back down the stairs and was met by one of the women from the Administration Desk. She apologetically informed me that she had given me the wrong meeting room number and offered to show me to the meeting room. On the way down the escalator I was joking with kind woman and said, "I thought I didn't quite fit in with at the black tie" gesturing at my jeans. Just then this business man, who neither of us had noticed was riding the stair above us, leaned over my shoulder, holding his hand over the reciever of his cell phone and said "No you really don't fit in," in a tone that implied that he disaproved of more than just my jeans.

A business man, in downtown Calgary, wearing his black tie, made the calcualted and callous decision to put his phone call, that was important enough to pull him away from the other black ties, on hold, just to insult a perfect stranger. A wave of indignation surged through my veins. But only for an instant. I did what I do best in these situations. I ignored him, and walked away. The woman and I gave each other a knowing look, she smiled and said "I hate dealing with those assholes," nodding towards the top of the stairs. We both laughed.

While, in this instance I was glad that I took the moral high ground, a part of me still feels like I let him win. I laughed to myself when I my mind wondered during my meeting and I imagined a whole host of come backs that would have left him reeling in his black tie. My personal favorite, "Here's my business card, call me when you want to apologize," and close second "$#%@#$* #$% @#$%@#$% &#%&^*."

I found out later that the event was actually a dinner party for the Premier of Alberta. I won't even get into obvious similes here, I will let you draw your own conclusions. But, sufficed to say, in the event that lightning strikes twice, I am prepared. Thanks mom!