Sunday, January 31, 2010

Bad Love Three

So what is the best way to get out of a bad position? A position where you have very little leverage? A position where you are gettin' yer ass kicked?

Well, let's begin by sayin' you shouldn't allow yerself to get into that type of position.
I was embarassed 'cause that's exactly what I facilitated due to not bein' focused, centered and alert.
Ladies n' gentlemen, distractions can literally kill you, or lead to a lot of unecessary pain.
Distractions are not yer friend.
I was acutely aware of this as biker punk pummeled my mug. I was also acutely aware that he DID have leverage, and he wasn't deterred by any distractions.

See, it don't matter that my distraction was noble or of good intent. Did I really have concern for this scumbag's wellbeing? Nice thoughts perhaps but very bad timing. And as we all know, there's a time and place for everything; balance, moderation, a season tosow n' a season to reap, yadda yadda.

The cold hard reality was that biker bully (like all bullies) didn't give a sh*t about MY wellbeing. In fact, he was intensely focused on makin' sure I was in a world of pain, and he was off to a good start.
If I ended up crippled or dead I'm quite certain that biker bully would have no remorse whatsoever. Not that remorse or empathy really matters at that point.
The point is I got the point the hard way, and I was gonna make it a point not to get distracted ever again...if I survived my current situation that is.

The blows punky was hittin' me with stung, but they didn't really hurt all that bad...yet. I noticed bully boy had huge rings on most his fingers (rings now covered with my blood) and that was doin' most the damage.

So this situation...a situation I should never have gotten into (unintended consequences were now clearly punchuated in my psyche)...required unconventional tactics born of desperation.
Bein' pissed off helped me make this choice without any remorse I might add.

I never once expected Luca to help me, although I knew if I asked he probably would, with a stern lecture to follow.
Hell no! This was my fight and I wasn't about to stoop to beggin' for help.
Was it pride? probably, to some extent. It's also about bein' a man. Standin' on yer own feet and standin' up to bullies. So yeah, pride is part of that, but is that a bad thing?
I don't believe it is. Not where honor is concerned, and by honor I'm talkin' about the literal meanin', not the corrupt meanin' idiots, terrorists n' psychopaths try to attach to it.

With all this streamin' through my mind I did what I hadta do...I grabbed bully boy's family jewels and commenced to apply pressure.
Needless to say this got his attention so much that he stopped pummelin' me and let out a a little girl.
He screamed like a little girl so much I almost felt embarassed for him. Almost.

Punky made a feeble attempt to hit me again and I squeezed harder. He froze in terror and begged me to let him go, tears gushin' from his eyes.

"C'mon man...ahhh! I'm sorry! Take it easy...ahh! Oh please!"

Pretty pathetic, really. I guided biker bully off of me and sat up on the table, keepin' my grip on his marbles.
Then I landed a haymaker square to his nose as I let go. I was mad but I wasn't gonna rip off his nuts. So I guess I still had a tiny bit of compassion in me even for this idiot.

Blood spurted from bully boy's nose as he fell to the deck. I got to my feet and got a few kicks in as bully boy tried to get up. He got the message and stayed down, assuming the fetal position.

Just like that it was over. I resisted the urge to keep kickin' girly bully. Adrenalyn was still coursin' through my veins, big time.
I walked slowly to my chair and took a long drink from my mug, then I lit a smoke.
My hands were shakin' and I tried to hide it.
Why the hell were they shaking? What was wrong with me?

Bully boy's friends went to help him and they threatened me with a few weak insults.
I was somewhat relieved they weren't lookin' for a fight but I just tried to look cool. Then I smiled, 'cause I realized I was tryin' to be someone else again instead of myself.

F*ck it, I thought. I reckon I'm stuck with me so I better get used to it.

"You got off to a shaky start but your still standin'," Luca said, smiling.

"Yeah. Fightin' is a bad time to think too much," I said, grinnin'.

"Are you okay? Your bleeding," one of the barmaids said.

Her name was Linda, I recalled, and I was smitten with her good looks. I tried to think of what to say and only managed to get out a feeble "yeah. Um...yeah."

Linda brought over a rag and wiped the blood off my face. My face tingled more than it hurt, and the touch of her hands caught my attention, imprisoned it and threw away the key.

"Hey I'll see ya later Ben. Bring him a pitcher of beer...on me," Luca said, placing a five dollar bill on the bar, pattin' me on the back and leavin'.

"Thanks Luca," I said. Luca gave me a thumbs up before he left without turnin' around.

"You might need a few stitches," Linda said, recapturin' my attention as she dabbed my face some more.

"Really?" I replied, wanting to hear her talk some more.

"You should get some peroxide or something to disinfect the wounds," she said.

"Good idea," I replied. "May I have a shot of whiskey?" I asked.

"Wait, you're going to use whiskey to disinfect?" She asked trepidly. "That's going to burn, you know."

"Not if you apply it," I repled. "If you don't mind bein' my nurse," I added, feeling my face turn red.

"Flattery wiill get you everywhere," Linda said coyly, batting her eyelashes at me.

Oh man, I thought. I'm in trouble now.

I forced myself not to wince as she dipped a clean cloth in the whiskey and disinfected my wounds.
She smiled and often looked into my eyes as she gently wiped my face.

"Oh no! You got glass in your arm!" She exclaimed grabbing my right arm and picking out glass shards.

I do? I thought, lookin' at my arm. Damn, I had not noticed. It looked worse than it was.

"I...uh...guess I'll need more um, your nursing," I said, stuttering again.

Damn! I hated when I did that. Some tough guy I am, I thought.

"Yes you do," Linda said, smiling. "I get off in an hour and I got some proper bandages at my apartment better come with me," she whispered.

"! Sure," I said, tryin' to speak coherently.

Linda kindly ignored my selected speech impediment and smiled again.

"Wow. It was so cool how you handled Dagger!" She said, her eyes lighting up. "He's bad news but took him out fast. I was so worried for you at first."

"Well...I can't stand bullies," I muttered, taking another drink.

"There's a new sheriff in town," Linda said, giggling.

I chuckled at that and shook my head.

"Flattery will get ya everywhere," I said.

She giggled again before reluctantly waiting on other customers.

Yep, I was in trouble alright. And I was drunk with happiness at the thought.

Little did I know how much trouble...


jwm said...

Gotta' move fast to keep up with you, Ben.
Bar fight. Life has denied me that thrill. And you know what? I have no regrets that I missed out...

Oh, that's bullshit.

Tell me there's a man alive who wouldn't love to have 'kickin' some punk's ass' on his resume.


julie said...

Uh oh, she sounds like the real trouble in this story...

robinstarfish said...

Frying pan, fire, it's all the same. ;-)

USS Ben USN (Ret) said...

Hey John,

Well, despite the potential drawbacks it IS kinda cool. Of course, I would only recoonmend kickin' a punk's ass when you ain't got much choice, such as to protect yerself or others n' stuff.

Even when avoiding bars, which I now do, punks seem to pop up every now n' then.
Don't get me started with bus stops and laundry mats.

USS Ben USN (Ret) said...

Hi Julie,

You got that right!

USS Ben USN (Ret) said...

Hey Dojo,

Or deep fat fryer, lol. It's all a bad way. :^)

mushroom said...

I've been trying to get over here for three days. Now I know why. Great story.

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