It's hard not to dislike those magnets. I've known soldiers, I *do* support our troops conceptually, they're good people, but too often "support our troops" is "support our war and our president." No excuse, it was a bit childish, but Whines and the other furs I was with didn't stop me, and most of them laughed. Yay, groupthink.
So, we finish crossing the parking lot--I'm wearing my nightwatch camo kilt, one of the other furs is wearing a big silly tail, and we're going into "Circuit City." Someone pulls up behind us and says "Hey, you!"
Well, I've managed to completely piss someone off with my little act of trivial vandalism. This guy follows me into the store, repeatedly calls me a pussy in a dress, demands over and over again that I be a man and go fix what I did. I was getting the vague sense that this guy would cheerfully beat me up if I got cocky. I stay as cool as possible, repeating in my "dealing with sales reps and angry bosses" voice that I was sorry, I would certainly fix what I did, but that I was in the electronics store at the moment, and would be leaving in a few minutes, thank you. He finally gets disgusted and walks out to fix what I did himself, and more power to him. After the store employees start to come over.
It was more than a bit scary, as scenes go--and of course, I was totally wrong, I really don't know what I was thinking. It felt SO much like high school--both for the stupid chest-puffing on his part, and the slightly impish and passive-aggressive stupidity on mine. I handled it well, except for the little part about minor vandalism.
Anyway, dumb me. It's not like I do that sort of thing more than once a year or so, though it's hard to justify it when I do. And I can't really *learn* from that sort of mistake, because I'll never do precisely that again. But there's no way to say that gracefully ("Dude, I've been working on a catalog and nine-hour, skip-lunch workdays all week. I blew a neuron, go away." would have been quite honest...)