Stood Up Shark

We did this whole conflict styles test thing at work a while back. According to it, I’m a shark; goal oriented, competitive, and aggressive. So, clearly the test is wrong. Nevermind the fact that before I’d even taken the test, 15 ish of my peers were confidently declaring, “Oh, Crystal’s definitely a shark.” C’mon guys! Not one person thought maybe I was a turtle?! Whatever.

With glaringly obvious shark like tendencies, you may think that I was maybe scrappy as a young’n. Never have I ever been in spontaneous physical altercation. Yet.

One of the earliest times it did almost happen was nearly 3 decades ago, and I’m still confused about it. The almost fight brewed after this one time when I got stood up.

I did okay in dating stuff back a million years ago. I had the number of dates and boyfriends that I wanted. I managed my expectations, tried to proceed wisely, and just didn’t get stood up.

Except that one time.

It was after high school. A young man I’d dated for a year in high school wanted to go out again. There was no heavy meaning attached to it. No need to say no. So,….sure. We’d det a date for a few days out. He didn’t show. It really was fine. I REALLY didn’t care or get bruised ego about it.

The next day I was at the frosty in town. As I waited for my upside down banana split, one employee there said to another, “Did you hear about (insert boy name here)? He went to Reno last night and married (whatever the girl’s name was).”

I was awash with relief. At least there was a reasonable explanation for being ditched.

I thought nothing more of it. Until months later when I was trudging around the Red Bluff fair grounds parking lot. I heard threatening expletives being yelled from a car.

The realization journey between “what’s that noise?” to “oh bitches want to fight me” was a short one.

The journey between,  “why the fuck they want to fight me?” and “let’s go” was even shorter.

It was the girl who’d married the boy and two of her friends. I have NO idea why beef with me was a thing. I mean, you got the boy so that shouldn’t matter. I was a solo girl (with some other boy by this time) just chilling. Posing no threat to your newlywed self.

As a shark might, I began to hurl my own threatening expletives back. Making it clear that I was not intimated and strongly encouraging them to come visit me.

Their Ford Festiva got stopped in traffic. Me, on Justin Roper clad foot, gained on them.

As I got closer, they sat in the car, eyes forward acting like nothing had happened. I was confused at their agro display, and even more confused by their “don’t make eye contact” response. Me being one person, it’s not like there was a lot of risk of me breaking all 30 of their combined fingernails. Maybe somebody was on probation or maybe someone became the festiva voice of reason, “Guys, we’ve got no beef with her.” Whatever the reason, they skirt skirted out, pushing all 4 of the car’s cylinders in to maximum work.

The flex on their part didn’t make sense. It made even less sense that unconsciously decided I wasn’t going to back down. Shark things make great sense if the goal is to remind everyone you’re a shark, but beyond that, they can be kinda stupid responses to situations. I’d like to think that I’ve matured some since that day, but when a room of people declare your sharkness, it’s clear I still have room to grow.

Thanks for reading!