As many of you will have heard, one of our Euchre nights went very badly a little while ago. The police became involved, and unfortunately, I am now legally obligated to attend Anger Management Training, even though I DO NOT have a problem controlling my temper.
The first session of the stupid-ass training took place on Saturday– AT 8:00 IN THE MORNING–out at a library in North Toronto. There were about a dozen people there for the course, most of them looking like they had bad credit ratings and hangovers. A stocky woman with all sorts of attitude sat beside me. She looked like she might serve as the muscle on an ice hockey team and had COCHISE written on her nametag.
The instructor’s name was Svetlana, and she spoke to us like we were two years old, which was driving me crazy. After asking us to “center yourself by imaging a calm and warm zone for safety” Svetlana presented us with a hypothetical.
“Let us say that you are driving to work. It is busy on Parkway and you are running a little late, and then somebody cut you off. What you do?”
When she said this, Cochise’s eyes bugged right out. Noticing this, Svetlana pointed at her, “Cochise, how you handle situation?”
“I don’t let nobody disrespect me. That dude has some bad things coming to him. I’m going to fuck him up and break his windshield with his face!”
Svetlana nodded, “ Yes, any other ideas on how to deal with cut-off driver? Michael?’
“ I don’t drive,” I said.
“Imagine you do, “ Svetlana requested.
“ But I don’t drive. I mean, you want me to imagine God, too? “
Cochise, who doesn’t know how to mind her own business, got up and slapped me across the head, “ Bitch, you will imagine getting your ass cut off or I will slice you like a pie!”
I then pulled out the mace I keep on my key chain and sprayed Cochise in the eyes and mouth. Unfortunately, this didn’t sedate her, but agitated her further, and class was canceled for the day.