Harassment

I’m walking about a block away from my go-to lunch truck, and I hear shouting.

Guy on the street: …ate food from your truck and I got DIARRHEA.

Lunch Truck Guy: Sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t just come up here like-

Guy on the street grabs all the napkins from the dispenser inside the truck

Lunch Truck Guy: Hey! You can’t be grabbing at me like that.

Guy on the street: I know what you are. I know your type. You’re a terrorist!

Lunch Truck Guy, who is Pakistani: Okay, you know what, smile buddy, you’re on the camera now.

Guy on the street: You’re a terrorist and you’re gonna blow us all up!

Me: That’s enough of that.

Guy on the street: He gave me diarrhea and now he’s a terrorist!

Me: Nope. I’ve been eating from this truck for four years and I’ve never had a single issue.

Guy on the street: Maybe it didn’t happen to you, but-

Me: Stop. You’ve said enough. You’re harassing my friend and now it’s time to go.

Now, as the title of the blog might suggest, I’m much larger than this idiot, but fuck if I wasn’t convinced in that moment that he was about to swing at me. He didn’t, thankfully, but after some more shouting he flicked his cigarette in my face and stumbled off. I could smell whatever it was he’d been drinking, and I’m glad I didn’t puke on his stupid face.

What I didn’t notice right away was that one of the burning embers from the cigarette landed on the plastic lid of my very best travel mug, leaving a big ol divot.

Guess I’ll have something to remember him by.