Ah, humiliation. For those of you inclined to Pythagorean self-reflection, moments of humiliation are useful, educative, even enlightening. But, for more normal people, humiliation can be one of the most throat-slittingly unpleasant feelings feelable, something to be avoided at all costs. It sometimes, miserably, seems to go on forever, making you want to fuck Rousseau and his social contract in the face. And sometimes, victims are willing participants in their own humiliation. A Seattle Police Report from November 20th describes such a case study.

At approximately 3:30 p.m. on that Saturday, a man was driving towards Thistle Street on the rough, worn two-lane road of 42nd Avenue S in South Beacon Hill when he stated he was suddenly boxed in by three cars. A man got out of his white Lincoln Navigator and accused the driver of damaging it. The driver denied having damaged the car, at which point, "the suspect produced a small black handgun (possibly Glock 9mm) and struck [the victim] in the right temple and right corner of his mouth," according to the police report, which also notes that the victim's right temple was scabbed over.

After being allegedly gun-whipped, the victim states he was forced to an ATM to withdraw money for the suspect. The story should end here, but it doesn't. At some point, the victim exchanged information with the suspects—or at least, gave them his phone number. The police report states that for the following week, the men—who the victim believes to be brothers—called him up to make additional withdrawals for them, $200 in all.

Here is where the victim starts to show arresting doormat-like meekness — the suspects allegedly repeatedly force him to meet them at the intersection where they first cornered him, and "from there they force him to accompany them to a gas station where he then uses [his boss's] company credit card to fill the vehicle. [The victim] is then forced to go with the suspects to [the 700 block of] MLK Way S where they pick up another vehicle and again force him to purchase gas for them (total purchases $790)." According to the police report, the victim's boss was out of town at the time and unaware of the charges.

According to the victim, this entire, mind-bogglingly uncomfortable saga-of-disgrace is repeated, again. And again. And again: "[The victim] stated he thought if he just bought gas a few times for the suspects they would leave him alone but this has gone on for two weeks." Who knows what finally prompted the victim to call the cops—a seed of bravery, or the greater threat that his boss would discover the company credit card charges?

The Nietzschean in me sees a slave versus master morality parable in this, but I know I’m treading dangerous waters there. (Go actually read Nietzsche, you fucktards.) In any case, don’t be a doormat.