a pummelling from the thick fist of irony

So today is the Anti-Bullying Day where everyone is supposed to wear pink. This is a good thing. In theory. I think bullies are a sad lot, and nothing is finer to watch some poor little David triumph gloriously over the schoolyard Goliath. However, I only have one pink shirt and it is covered in skulls. Also, dressing myself in the morning is an underdog feat in and of itself. I’m not a morning person, and distinguishing pants from tops is the best I can manage. Something like remembering to wear a specific colour is of the least importance, the first wave out of the trench. So I wore blue today. (That it is a colour and not black or grey is its own little triumph. I sometimes wonder if I’ve gone colourblind when I look in my closet.)

Arriving at work, I immediately realized my faux pas when seeing a Barbie convention in the lobby. Oops. I was later berated by a fellow (nameless) employee for not wearing pink. Nor did I participate in the group photo. So I was bullied for not showcasing the fact that I am anti-bullying. ‘I forgot’ is not an acceptable excuse. As if someone would intentionally not wear pink on moral ground: ‘Actually, I do support bullying, and I would like my beliefs to be respected.’ What would the Anti-Bully do in such a case?

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