Judging

angry-dude

My mind was judging everyone in the café. There was a big guy with a pony-tail and an American accent who was sitting outside talking garrulously to two women. He was talking loudly – much too loudly in my opinion. “Tell me you’re an artist,” he was saying to one of the women, “Tell me that you’re an artist!” He grated on my nerves. He went on and on, obviously oblivious to how irritatingly loud his voice was. Who the fuck does this big-mouth think he is, my mind said, what a bloody dick-head! And what’s worse, the woman he was talking to seemed to be lapping it up. How do guys like this always manage to impress women, I wondered. It made me feel positively sick.Then a party came in and sat at the table next to mine. There was a young guy with a straggly beard and a woolly hat with them. Straightway my mind was saying that he looked like a total knob. Probably thought he looked cool. Probably thought he had a pretty neat image going for himself there. What a complete tosser, I thought to myself. Talk about pretentious – everything about him was a statement! Shortly after this I noticed a man sitting alone at a table in the other corner of the café. He had a trendy cream-coloured jacket on and a smug expression and immediately my mind started judging him too. He obviously had a very good opinion of himself. Probably because he had money – amazing how the fact that they have money automatically makes people feel good about themselves. As if this fact alone is enough guarantee that they aren’t just some instantly forgettable asshole. As if this fact alone is enough to validate them as a worthwhile human being! How ridiculous is that? With an effort I looked away from the guy with the cream jacket and straightaway found someone else to judge. It occurred to me then that there wasn’t anyone in the café that I wasn’t judging! As a result of this insight I started to become aware of what I was doing, of how I was instantly judging every single person I saw. This made me feel very bad inside. I became worried about myself for doing this. Was it wrong to judge, I wondered? I then realized that it was. What a pathetic sad fuck I am, I told myself – why can’t I just go and get a life for myself? What’s wrong with me? What kind of a person must I be to be judging everyone the whole time like this? The answer wasn’t long coming – I realized that I must be a crappy sort of a person. A lousy sort of a person. The very worst sort of a person you can get…

 

 

 

 

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