PROUD TO THE END

Just like any other country in the world, Venezuela has its idiosyncrasies, things like baseball fanaticism, or talking with double meaning, or not saying the "s" at the end of words, etc.

But one of the most pronounced idiosyncrasies encounter, is pride.

Sometimes, too much pride.

SOURCE

Pride is good, but it can also be very bad, very ugly.

The other day a guy --- with a new 350 truck and super proud of his truck ---, whom I did not know, and he did not know me, came to talk to me, there in the street, in front of my workshop.

The guy talked and talked, I do not know why, like to pretend or impersonate a rich man or something with his new 350, but suddenly he started saying things that are not, for nothing (see below), then after a I raised my hand, I looked into his eyes, and told him to stop talking to me, and I started to leave.

I said in his face: do not talk pistoladas

Well, the guy insulted me and started yelling at me, like that with his hands in the air, like a rapper, he believed, and as he walked away he shouted:

"So you're calling me pajúo?"

Evidently he did not understand the message, and I retired tired of listening to him.

But the guy was still screaming, and screaming, like he wanted to fight or something, even though I was already 30 meters away.

Amazing.

It's amazing what makes pride wrong.

What was it that the guy said so that I told his eyes to stop talking to me straw?

Well, the guy told me, well, with the pride of a fighting cock:

That's my house, and the next one too, that's all mine.

The guy was talking about my workshop and the house next door, the same shop that I had recently bought from someone else, not him, he did not know him, and I had only seen him there once.

Moreover, the owner of my workshop is me, not him.

So?

Why did he invent all that?

I do not know, but I think he did it to inflate pride, not only because he had a new 350, but now he also owned two houses (my workshop is a house) that are not his.

Is not that straw?

Amazing.

Until today when he sees me there he puts on his long face and straightens his back, like a rooster, as if to fight.

Well, I hope he will never try it since I am an expert in martial arts and could accidentally kill him with a single blow.

(It's one of the reasons why I rarely go to a liquor store, club, or party, because when people get drunk sometimes their pride gets up by passing the point of rationality, and since I'm pretty small, lonely, and silent, I often seek to fight, to bother, but I do not want to fight since I am a mortal danger I do not want to kill anyone, I learned to defend myself to be able to work in dangerous places, like in the jungles, in the red zones, and in wars.)

Well, basically, the guy was insulted because I had the courage to tell his face the truth and not collaborate with his ridiculous game of pride of "I am the owner of blah, blah, blah."

I imagine that the guy thought I was going to subjugate him, looking at the floor, like a servant, and say yes, yes, yes to everything he said, because the guy had a new 350 truck, but it was not like that, and I hurt the pride.

Anyway, that kind of crooked pride is very negative, very bad, not good at all.

It is very ugly.

Now I know I can not believe the guy anything.