Street fairs bring out people's latent desire to dispense unwanted jackassery.
Earlier today my friend Nathan was doing HIV outreach at Castro Street Fair. After about 30 seconds of pretending to listen to some windbag talk about how Harvey Milk was more important than sexual education in schools, he did the socially appropriate thing and started ignoring him. The man was so incensed by this that he started pelting Nathan with free candy from the booth. Hijinx (and very nearly a police report) ensued. At the time I mostly thought, wow, random semi-assaultive jackassery and I wasn't the target. Things are looking up for me!
Fate is not only cruel, but patient. Later that afternoon,
Darren: Can we talk about how you are a growing boy, and how you need to start going to the gym so that it doesn't all go to (motions to belly area).
Me: ... no, no we can not do that.
Darren: I'm just trying to help!
There have been a few social moments, very few, where I felt like my clinical psychology skills have come in useful, where I felt like I was able to tailor a conversation or express myself just a little bit better than I otherwise would have.
This was not one of those moments. This felt like hitting a very small, cute but also very stupid woodland creature with the obvious mallet.
Me: (strained) Thank you for your generous advice. I will take this under consideration. Gee, you look like you've been working out.
Darren: Oooooh, why thank you! Did I mention I love this boy?
Me: I... feel a stirring desire... to blog about this.