I fought (well, more like shove/nudged) a three-year old girl, who also happens to be a little person, over ownership of this plastic nugget toy. It was 14 years ago ,at the book fair on the green. There was a giant cardboard box labeled “Free – please take” containing junky, used and mostly broken and filthy stuff. Still, I had to check it out. We happened upon the nugget at the exact moment and the battle was on immediately. As her teeny three-year old, little person hand reached out and without much force or swift movement, I grabbed it before she could. In my defense, it was actually a pretty reasonably even match, save for weight. (I once gave my friend Alec a serious black eye in what can I can only categorize a badly botched fist bump)
Within five minutes of moving in to my college sophomore dorm room, I had a an impulse to rip out the screen from the window and throw it out the now open . It resulted in an
inexplicable euphoric state of satisfaction. And that very quickly morphed in to the act of repeating the act with straight up trash. Every day. Several times. For the following THREE years. Passers by might swerve to avoid the following: 1/2 empty iced tea bottle, a clothing item damaged beyond repair, cans, tremendous lamp, overflowing ashtrays, or pizza boxes. At the time, I was not particularly troubled. Or ashamed. That’s just some messed up shit.