I was waiting in line to buy a bus ticket. Around me were walking hundreds of people making all kinds of noise. This is an experience usually resulting in brain overload caused by intense data processing. There’s just too much happening and the senses cannot catch a break, even though the body is technically in rest. Ask the sellers in malls or large supermarkets. They experience it every day. Looking at people passing around is very tiresome and depressing.
About 15 more minutes passed. It was finally my turn when out of nowhere a short fat man in his 40s, wearing a funny cap to hide his lack of hair, decided to step in front me and take my rightful place. My mind immediately started searching for the right solution to this obvious injustice:
“Why can’t he wait a few more minutes? I was here first. It’s basic logic. Should I confront him? Hmm….He is bigger than me, but most of his grandeur is fat based.”
Then I said:
“I was here first and it’s my turn. Please, step back.”
Where I live adding ornaments like “sir” just sounds ironic and causes more harm than good. At least that’s the way I see it.
“But, you weren’t waiting at the right place,” replied the man.
This was indeed true. I was off by half a step. This remark actually synthesized even more rage deep inside of me. Then I remembered one thing – I was lifting weights and my deadlift was already up to 275 lbs for a solid set of 5. This low life loser had nothing on me.
I almost screamed: “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”
My voice was very loud and a little scary/psycho sounding, maybe because the whole time I was thinking:
“I deadlift 275 lbs for 5 reps and will break you in half, you fat motherfucker!”
At the time I was just starting out and still processing the idea that barbell and real life weights are different. An object weighing 275 lbs is heavy as hell, but 275 lbs on a barbell are not nearly as much. You have a nice gripping surface, and the whole thing is made to be lifted in the first place. It’s way easier.
Anyway, that aggression was enough to scare him off. He stepped back and I finally bought my ticket. The woman was extra polite too. She probably didn’t want to be asked what she wants by a crazy person either. While I was giving her the money, the man who was still close to me, whispered some kind of insults, while looking at his shoes. I think he called me a junky and a yokel. I gave him the “I hope you think I am a gangster.” look and left.
This is just another proof that what we call confidence starts in the head. A 275 lbs deadlift is not heavy, nor relevant in a street fight. Yet, it gave me a mental boost and made me less afraid. Question is, what happens when you realize that a 275 lbs deadlift does not make you invincible by any means? Do you go for a 500 lbs deadlift?
Whatever works, I guess.