After twenty-five years of timidity, Mark’s long-awaited confidence had finally arrived. And for a moment it was invigorating, a rush; but like the momentary thrill of a roller coaster Mark’s confidence had leaked out of him as quickly as it had filled him up. It was plenty of time for Mark to piss off the most temperamental muscle-bound tenant in the entire building, though.
“What the hell did you just say to me?” Mr. Apartment 2G challenged.
“He’s a moron,” Mark thought. “Now just say it out loud. Come on! Just say it!”
“Nothing. I take it back. I’m sorry,” Mark said quickly, keeping eye contact with his toes.
“That’s what I thought. It’d be a waste of my time for me to have to kick your ass,” 2G said. “Now get the hell out of here.”
Mark turned to walk back down the hall to his own apartment.
“Jeez. It’s not that big of a deal,” he mumbled under his breath.
Suddenly, as if it came from the depths of Tartarus, Mark felt a strong grip grab his shoulder and spin him around. And in the 1.2 seconds it took for the meteor of 2G’s fist to come hurtling towards the surface of his face Mark came to the sharp and strong conclusion that confidence sucks.
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