Grotesque Rage

Now I really understand why I named this blog Grotesquerage. It’s more than because the word ‘grotesque’ captured me after it's constantly being said by Riri Riza – Indonesia’s promising, young director - at last year’s JiFfest when he was judging entries for short film competition.

Somehow I have such repressed anger - when it comes to men, in particular. Such as now. My hands are still trembling from anger I just burst it out open at some stupid male chauvinist pig in the form of a metromini driver.

As every Jakartan knows that getting into a race with other metrominis is the drivers’ little amusement between their depressing working hours. Understanding that, about 100 m before my stop, I already told the driver to stop by knocking on the roof. But he just kept on driving the fucking metromini that I had to keep on knocking... harder and more frantically. I didn’t have that much patience as any other getting off passengers before me who went through the exact same thing like I did. Thank you, no! But then again I was very cranky, which always happens whenever I‘m hungry. (Well, I skipped lunch today because I was too busy to even grab something to eat)

As I kept on knocking, he kept on driving madly. The more I knocked, the more he drove. Out of uncontrolled temper, I hit him lighty on the shoulder with the laptop I've been carrying. He, of course, got more furious then yelled the dirtiest words ever invented at me. The more he yelled at me, the more I yelled back at him with the same dirtiest words I could think of. Fuck! I threatened him to report his fucking ass to the police, knowing there was a police station nearby. But damn, he wasn’t afraid and still kept on driving. I even showed him my middle finger. One last attempt, I gathered all my energy then screamed at the top of my lungs to make him stop the goddamn vehicle. He didn't listen. He even told me to jump out the fucking moving orange thing instead. Supposed there was a folded knife in my bag, I was sure I was gonna stab him right there in front of everybody. I didn’t fucking care if I had to spend 10 years in jail for killing that bastard. For the love of God, then yes, he finally stopped. But it was already 500 meters from my stop.

Looking back, that guy could’ve jumped out of his driver’s seat and attacked me when I hit him with my laptop. But miraculously I wasn’t in the least afraid of him. I didn’t know I got that much guts, for normally I would switch into my Gandhi's Ahimsa mode, as it's useless to fight off some asshole like him.

Man, some hilarious occurrence it was! Now I’m writing this from some noodle place. As eating my wonton noodle, my fingers started to ache from too much knocking the roof of metromini too hard.