You know, I don’t know Michael Richards.  I met him once and he went out of his way to help me when he really didn’t have to.  I was about to make an asshole out of myself (as usual) and he ran interference.

Watching all of this stuff on the news, I think it’s unfortunate for everyone involved, but I identify with Michael Richards – not because of racism – because I’ve had rage so deeply seeded that I didn’t know it was there.  In rageful moments you immediately use the most painful words or actions stored in your brain against the target of your rage.  I’m sure most of us have been a fight with a loved one and said something inexcusably horrible. It’s TOTALLY possible to call your fiancé a dumb, cheating, cunt-whore and fully expect them to know you “didn’t mean it like that” and be at the alter on Tuesday.  The best part after completely losing your shit is afterwards you get the never-ending feelings of shame, guilt and loneliness.  (I say loneliness because usually, the next day nobody wants anything to do with you).

It disappoints me to hear everyone casting Richards out.

My rage didn’t make me a bad person, just a person person with bad behaviors.  It’s something I joke about in my act, but I did some things that while not racist, were inexcusable and easily worse.   I was very lucky to get help early on and have an incredibly better handle on it after years and years of “help.”  I’d be a liar to say I am in 100% control at all times.

This last trip, I made a heckler cry and the reactions across the board from my peers were, “Good for you.”  I wasn’t proud of that, but I wasn’t ashamed for it either – which is pretty unusual.  I overreacted and I went for her jugular.  Now, I didn’t just give her what she had coming, I gave her what every heckler I’d had for three weeks had comin’ too and that’s where I think I went wrong.  Otherwise, I don’t feel bad.

I’ve gotten much better at controlling that rage, but I lose it on small scales periodically.  Probably the worst I lost it (publicly) was 3 years ago, after a build up of shitty events that were out of my control, I was trying to get gas in a rush when the pump asked me to pre-pay.  Well… I lost my mind.  I marched into the gas station and completely lost my shit on the unsuspecting gas attendant. After a tirade, I screamed “I FUCKING HATE GETTING GAS!” and then slammed the door, which cheerily chirped “ding ding!”

Having had years of “help” I knew somewhere this was completely inappropriate but I still couldn’t control myself, but I forced myself to open the door again and screamed, “THIS ISN’T YOUR FAULT!  I HATE GETTING GAS AND YOUR GAS STATION IS REALLY FUCKING RETARDED STUPID!  I’M JUST HAVING A REALLY BAD DAY!”

The gas station attendant, frozen wide-eyed, said “Yeah… yeah… I can see that. Uh…it’s okay… I… uh…”

So I threw a bag of chips and slammed the door.

“ding ding!”

I walked back to the pump, spun on my heel and went back to the store, re-opened the door for the third time and threw 75 cents into the store for the chips.

“ding ding!”

Luckily, no one had a camera phone.

I’m not defending Michael Richards, I’m just saying I’ve been there and it’s a really, really shitty place to be.  I’d like to say thanks for all of the people that made it possible for me to get as far away from rage as possible.

And… uh… I’m not sorry that bitch cried.