You can’t always be a badass.
Find new techniques to deal with unnecessary confrontation.
An executive decision is usually never the funniest one. The best way to handle a situation usually isn't your first instinct, either. Unless, of course, you’re the most well-adjusted person in the world. Odds are most people find themselves on deadly grounds after freaking out and regularly walking away from situations half past dead. It’s always easy to be a Monday morning quarterback. I’m mostly referring to shit that’s funny, though. Those cut-scenes in comedy writing drawn from our short attention-spans during our daily routines. The ones where people go out for justice in their mind and imagine themselves overcoming the hardships of their desk-job by choking out their boss. Or the ones where people relive old blunders like the retrospective action-heroes they’re minds are making them. Truth be told, no one is above the law. It’s nearly impossible to always, or even ever, make the Seagalesque decision. Seagalesque is my own made-up synonym for badass. I don’t even need to put that in parenthesis since it’s relevant. To make a Seagalesque move while under siege, you've got to fulfill a base set of requirements, but mostly you have to be Steven Seagal. So, realistically, there’s like a total of one person in the world that can even do this all the time. Strive to find new techniques to help you deal with people and unnecessary confrontation. Some people wear a rubber-band on their wrist, and snap it back to inflict a small amount of pain to help redirect their focus and not be so reactionary. Others do writing exercises. Next time you feel that fire down below, try to remember that there’s no point in stressing out. A lot of badasses throughout history would have dealt with that guy who tossed his poodle’s turds in your recycling bin a bit differently than, say, calling him a homosexual from your front porch. No, he wouldn’t have been harmed or anything that could have left exit wounds. Trust me, I know more than anyone that old habits are hard to kill, but a true badass simply would not have given a fuck. Who cares about waste management employees anyway? So what if a few turds fall on one of those guys? I mean, I’m not out for a kill or anything, but those drunks accelerate those loud, hybrid trucks at speeds of 35 mph just to brake every 25 feet. They consistently wreck my trash bins and then ride off into the sun before I can even think about going after them with my machete. They've broken two of my bins this year alone, and I’m pretty sure the third one is already marked for death. It takes months to even get a replacement. This is dark territory. The takeaway here should be that you are not Steven Seagal.