Dear Ugly-Hearted Racist Guy,
I don't like you. I'm sure you're not too upset, since obviously, you don't like me either. The thing is, I like people. And, I like liking them. OK, I can be judgy when I want to be, like when people fuss over food that's like a minute past expiration- seriously, first world problems. I think the standard for food expiration in much of the world goes something like this, "Mom, I'm so hungry" "I know son, here we can eat this, it's almost food") or when customer service reps couldn't care less that they can't help you (my friend, if you can't muster an 'I'm sorry about that' or "Let me try this' you are in the wrong profession.) But seriously, people are dope- so different, quirky, comical. For someone who loves to look at the funny in life, the one thing that's a non-negotiable is the human race. From the 'caught in Walmart' photos (yes, I look at them and shoot milk out of my nose occasionally- it's therapeutic) to those awkward family pictures (not mine of course, mine always come out fabulous) to those tear jerking videos where 10 random people on the beach pitch in and save 50 stranded dolphins, or a soldier returning home from duty and hugging his newborn for the first time, there is really nothing funnier or more beautiful than people.
But you, you searched for me on the internet, hoping to find someone to say ugly, mean things to. I wish you hadn't found me, but you did. I, being quick and clever and generally cooler and smarter (I certainly hope) than you responded with disarming humour and a sharp tongue which quickly put you in your place. That was all I would give you. That was all you deserved. But of course, your words hurt. They made me angry and they hurt. But I reserve those truer feelings for those who I like, love and trust. And only they will know that the ugly-hearted racist guy made me cry and stole my joy that day, making me wonder why it is that I like people. Tomorrow, I will start again, remembering the humor and kindness that makes up most of what I love about us. Tonight, I'm pulling the covers over my head and going to sleep.
Waiting for joy that comes in the morning.