Broulim's bully

I’m not a fan of violence, and am even less of a fan
of pain.  

So last week, when my life was endangered by a testosterone-drunk beefcake I was unprepared. 

It was a couple days before school started, which meant it was “Take Your Parents to Broulim’s Day.”

My roommate was stocking up on enough groceries to not only last her through a zombie apocalypse, but probably allow her to maintain obesity for its duration. I decided to go wait in line for her. 

These weren’t normal lines. The lines were looping around those reject carts in this semi psychedelic-crop-circle way that made feel like I was trapped in a Tim Burton movie. 

Eventually my roommate snuck into the spot in line I had been saving for her. 

Now, according to everything I’ve ever observed about line ethics, this is a totally legit move. I wasn’t getting anything; I was just holding a spot
for her. 

 As she joined me I heard an extremely disgruntled “ahem” and “excuse me” from about three carts back

I turned around to see a grizzley seven-foot man staring me down.

If Sean Connery and Fezzik from The Princess Bride had a baby, it would be this guy. He smelled like the ghost of truck stops past and I’m almost positive there was half a bratwurst stuck in
his beard. 

I quickly looked back and attempted to explain the situation in broken sentences.

“Saving place . . . didn’t cut . . .” 

I was interrupted with this: “Good thing you are a girl, otherwise I would give you a black eye.”

I admit I can understand him being a tad miffed. It probably looked like I was allowing my roommate to cut in line, but that does not mean it is okay to threaten defenseless girls in the grocery store. 

This scenario could have gone one of two ways. In my mind it went something like this: “Good thing you’re a girl,” I said. “Otherwise I would give you a black eye. Maybe you haven’t noticed — but I’m Jessica Black.”

Of course this is not what happened, because although I am Jessica Black, that is not a very intimidating title. Besides taking one karate lesson and learning how to fake fight in drama class in Junior High I don’t really know much about self defense. Acknowledging this, I snapped into survival mode and we ventured to another, less bloodthirsty line. I made a mental note to take that one self defense class the school offers. 

In the end, Grizzly Adams swaggered  to his vehicle, which I can only imagine reeked of animal cruelty and old meat. 

Although it grinds my gears that I allowed myself to be terrorized by bully tactics, at the end of the day, I am still the nice one and he has been immortalized in Scroll as the guy who picks fights with 20-year-old girls.