It could be anything. Someone you met, haven't met. I have found that lately I'm feeling a bit hurt. Has it happened to you?
Strange thing is, Michie. I haven't found it difficult to forgive people who have maligned me in a big way, over a period of time ; maybe, alas, because it's a sin I can identify with all too closely. No, it's the deep, casual malice/wickeness of very pusillanimous strangers, usually accompanied by a leer. When I've stared back at males of that persuasion, angrily, they've just gone to pieces, flustered, and wishing they were anywhere but there. A girl a little further down at the large table we were sitting at in one of Edinburgh's main libraries nearly laughed out loud when she saw one occasion when it happened.
Recently, I responded like that to a young bloke, (less pusillanimous, more serious, than the others), who could probably have pushed me over me with his index finger, but fortunately for me perhaps it was in his workplace. That's how I interpreted his departure, anyway.
The people who saw it were more amused a little later, because as I went round the back of my car to get in it, I staggered somewhat - as is my wont these days, as I negotiate my way around furniture, etc.
Normally, I ignore hostile behaviour like that. 75 is no age to get involved in a car-park, street fight, an affray - never was as far as I was concerned - but I was outraged, as I was bringing some flowers to leave at my wife's memorial rose-bush at the crematorium, and God seemed to prompt me to keep staring at the lad. Anyway, another way to look at it - which did occur to me - was, heck, how much life is left in this old rat-bag anyway. If I had to spend the rest of my limited number of days, drinking my meals though a straw, it would hardly be the tragedy it would be for a young bloke. More like another part of life's rich pageant, in the immortal words of the Gallic suiper-sleuth, Inspector Clouseau aka Peter Sellers.
Like those scurrilous Blues Brothers, I'm on a mission from God, it seems, when I go to lay ma floowers at the foot of Anthea's rose bush ! I'd better watch out for that Mother Superior with her cane, next time. I once (a good while ago, now) read in a UK newspaper that being a Catholic in our prisons (where we are apparently over-represented... !) carried a certain 'cachet', and suspected it was due to the Pelagianism and excessive legalism, carried over from the previous, Tridentine dispensation ; which, incidentally, counter to the burden of both Old and New Testaments, used to tout the rich as, generally, in their outlook, paragons of Judaeo-Christian virtue, instead of the poor.