I Lost My Troll
Have you seen my troll?
His name is Jason and I’ve lost him.
I’m not good with troll breeds but I guess I’d best describe Jason as a domestic short-haired cranky man-bitch with a wicked underbite.
I first encountered Jason sometime in April. I remember because it was also my last encounter.
I’d just posted a story — an attempt at humor — when he came sniffing around.
He went and did his business in the comments section. It’s since been removed but I‘m pretty sure it went
This is the most convoluted thing I have ever read.
But I read too fast. My blurred inaccurate takeaway was this gracious future-fan had experienced a convulsion from laughing so hard.
So I responded.
Don’t worry. It only took a few hours before I got wise.
It was at the dinner table. As I always do, I regaled my family by reading aloud comments to my stories.
How they love it.
“Ah! Here’s a good one from my new friend Jason!” I boasted, going on to carefully enunciate each word for deep audience appreciation.
Strangely, I didn’t hear the typical fork-clinking-glass response from wife and daughters.
On the contrary, they appeared distressed.
I read the comment once again, enunciating each word internally for deep me appreciation.
I checked with Merriam and then Webster to make sure there wasn’t a flattering definition I didn’t know about.
(“Baby, the way you convolute me knocks my socks off.”)
None to be found.
I slowly removed my laptop from the dinner table. I was done regaling.
Later, moping over dessert, it sunk in.
I slammed my hand down.
“I’VE BEEN TROLLED!”
I was elated!
I’d never been trolled before!
Looking back, I may have intentionally convinced myself deliberate snarks were highfalutin compliments of gifted and highly educated better-than-thous.
I may have even rearranged the on-screen letters in you suck to kudos on more than one occasion.
Regardless of my past dealings with derision denial and an oddly specialized form of dyslexia, Jason’s was the first slam I was willing to accept as real-deal.
The next day, I scanned Jason’s profile page to learn all I could about him.
No original stories.
Several derogatory comments targeting writers’ stories and beliefs.
Make that dozens.
<scroll, scroll, scroll>
“Jason! You DAWG!”
Yup — this was a bonafide, full-time, equal opportunity, pan-categorical, socializing deprecator.
His chosen method: the classic hit n’ run, meaning those tagged with a Jason-Jab were afforded no chance for retort.
He was a weasely ghost of a troll.
And with no posted stories of his own, Jason further removed himself from potential confrontation.
From whatever sub-basement he operated, Jason had been working hard to creep into the lives of so many with his I’ll-piss-in-your-pool-but-stay-clean* brand of misery.
(*No one ever escapes clean.)
But alas, several weeks have passed since Jason anointed my pool.
Sure, I’ve received a slew of disciplinary comments and private notes regarding my poor use of grammar (*mwah* Love ya!), but those just aren’t the same.
I’d hoped one day I’d answer my notification bell to find me another Jason Dogma Dump deeply steeped in condescension and narcissism left on my front porch.
No such luck.
Jason is no longer ringing bells.
I searched for his profile page recently to no avail.
Like a fart.
Had Jason met a certain troll quota?
Had he grown weary winning so many of the online debates he initiated but refused to participate in?
Did his mother make him get a job?
We may never know.
But he’s out there.
My request to all readers is simply this:
If you find yourself at a Starbucks and glimpse a curmudgeony little creature tucked in a corner table eerily peering at you over a laptop screen…
If you find yourself at a public library and see a curmudgeony little creature rustling in an isolated nook peering at you over a laptop screen…
If you’re anyplace with free WiFi and there happens to be a curmudgeony little creature…
whistle softly, then ask
If the creature looks you in the eye, walk away quietly and give me a call.
Yes — Jason may have been troll to many, but only my story…MINE…was the most convoluted he ever read.