It is an odd feeling to be a captive audience to someone who is screaming obscenities at you. I couldn’t seem to focus enough to remember to take my own advice. My hands were trembling. It wasn’t that I cared what this bully thought of me or the words he said. It was the overwhelming barrage of hatred and rage that took me utterly aback. This person with whom I had only a passing acquaintance wanted to hurt me in any way he could. He wanted me to be upset. He wanted me to cry. He wanted me to break down, thereby proving what a big man he was.
I managed to laugh at him, and then I muted him. Bullies hate that. One of the gals found the administrative password in her papers and banned the jerk. Good riddance.
Once he was gone, silence reigned. The game ground to a halt. We were shocked and subdued. He hadn’t managed to hurt anyone’s feelings but we were shaken by such a severe outburst in the middle of our friendly game. We had known the guy was snarky but nobody had thought him capable of that.
For once, I finally understood what my perhaps less experienced online sisters felt. I’ve become inured to all but the most extreme of outbursts, but this incident truly shocked me. It has been a long time since any kind of bullying got that reaction out of me. What a horrible thing for one person to do to another.
It breaks my heart to imagine what his poor wife and child must go through with this man. Does he hit them? Or just scream at them until the tears come and he can feel important again. My fleeting and unpleasant experience with him is just the merest taste of what they must endure every single day.
One thing he said really struck me. It wasn’t the obscenities, the insults or the nasty tone he used. He kept saying, “Shut up and listen to me when I’m talking!” What kind of upbringing must this man have had to believe that he had to hurt people to be heard? That he had to make them listen? It may not be any easier being the bully than it is to be the bullied.
