Gin, battered (ex)girlfriends, and me

I have no idea what the hell is up with today. I’ll skip everything that happened at work, the bizarre goings on after work, and go directly into the gin and domestic violence.

So after the bizarrely fucked up --but entertaining!-- clusterfuck that was my day up until about 7:00pm, I decided I was thirsty. Not just regular thirsty. Gin thirsty. I headed off to the booze store and settled upon some reasonably priced Original Bombay Dry Gin, then rushed home, quite eager to imbibe. None of this Sapphire crap, mind you; I wanted my gin to actually taste like gin.

Enough of that. I was headed home and some woman asked another woman who was near me where Portland Ave was. Well, it turned out Another Woman had no freakin’ idea where it was, and I couldn’t figure out if it’s because she’s just dumb or if she’s full of shit. Seriously, Another Woman was walking her dog, and I can’t imagine she bused in her dog from Chaska (a useless Minnesota suburb) just to walk it in downtown Minneapolis, so how can she not know? Surely she lives in the area. Enough judgment of Another Woman. I chimed in and told Some Woman, “It’s a block thataway. Two blocks tops.”

After answering, I noticed Some Woman seemed to be out of sorts, so I asked, “Are you okay?” She told me she was, but she clearly wasn’t, so I offered to walk her to the street she needed to go to. No biggie considering it is a block away from the street I live on, so it was a pretty simple thing to do for someone without even going out of my way. Then I noticed the red, gaping, fresh wound on the side of her face! Then I asked in a more pressing manner if she were okay. She told me she had just left the hospital, and her eye had to be stitched. What the hell? The story was she just left her boyfriend, and was going to stay with her friend for a while, and needed to go to her friend’s house. When she told me she was leaving her guy I exclaimed, rather stupidly, “So he hit you!” Of course he did. It wasn’t so much a question, or something I needed to confirm, so much as it was me blurting out the (obvious) conclusion that had suddenly dawned on me. Of course! That is why this woman is disoriented and wounded, but I had no idea what happened to her until she told me she left her boyfriend. That’s when I noticed the other side of her face was swollen. “Holy shit,” iI thought, “this was one abusive relationship.”

Then I carpet-bombed her with (very likely intrusive) questions.* All you all right? Did you call the police? Is he in jail? Other than the stitches, you’re okay?*

All right, I’m rambly. Look, she did call the police, and police took her to the hospital, and I think the asshole was arrested, but I didn’t grill her on this. Ultimately, she thought it would be easiest for her to catch a bus or cab on Portland and go up to the cross street she needed to go to, so I offered her a ride. We walked to my apartment, and I gave her a ride. We passed where she meant to go on the first try, so we had to go in circles a bit considering there were one-ways abound where we were, but it wasn’t a problem. Once you’ve decided to drive someone around, spending an extra five minutes getting to the right place isn’t anything worth talking about. Still, she kept apologizing, however, as if it were a big deal. “I’m so sorry” and the whole nine. Look, lady, I has to assure her, it is not pressing on me in any way to have to drive around in a circle for five minutes. Enough.

I hope she’s all right. I really had no idea what to do, so I just gave her a ride to where she needed to go. She thanked me endlessly as if I did some huge, giant thing. I drove someone around in a car for 15 minutes - bfd. And now I’m thinking about her, and couldn’t help but to share.

So yeah, here’s my pointless shit that I’m sharing. Good Monday to you, too.

You done good, MOL.

Yes, perhaps you should change your name.

I really am mean. Just ask my lousy, ungrately husband!

I just hope the woman is okay. I always hope everyone is okay, but it is hard to stay up at night lamenting every abuse on the planet. If it were easy, no one would get any sleep. I’m not sure how I’ll sleep tonight. The good news is I have my gin! Perhaps it is the cause of the numerous typographical errors in my OP.

I knew from this that you were an upstanding and responsible person, capable of deep empathy and always choosing to do the right thing.

Fuck Sapphire. I have as much respect for that garbage as I do for the garbage who thinks hitting solves problems.

Good job, MOL

I’m impressed. Hugs to you:)

It wasn’t the fifteen minutes driving her around, it was treating her like a human being. And that’s probably huge for her, right about now.

Good for you.

Your unexpected kindness to her could have made just enough difference in how she sees herself to help tip the scales in her making the right decision, at least somewhere down the road. Let’s hope.

This. That woman’s worst wounds are not the ones on her body, it’s the convinction that she’s absolutely worthless. You treated her like a human being; you, unlike the boyfriend, behaved like a human being.

Fuck you all. Sapphire is an excellent gin. It actually tastes intriguing - it’s got the juniper going along with a few other interesting flavors.

Sure, if you only like white bread, and you only like your steak “well done”, and you only like ketchup as your only condiment, sure, you’ll hate Sapphire. As for me, I like complex flavors. So eat it. Sapphire is pretty decent.

What’s wrong with Sapphire?

Nice thing you did.

I’ve never cared for the taste of Sapphire either, regular Bombay, Boodles or Beefeater’s please.

But what I most like is Hendrick’s. Give it a shot if you’ve never tried it before. Makes a great martini.

Nice story to hear - somebody doing something nice for no reason except that it’s the thing to do. Here’s hoping she comes out OK. You gave her a little push that way.

I used to drink gin and tonic a long time ago, but tried some a few weeks back and didn’t like it much at all. Maybe I’ll try it again in a few more years.

What’s an ungrately husband?

You and I both, sir. Cheers.

What in blazes are you talking about? That’s why I don’t like Sapphire; it is bland as Wonder Bread. Wake me up when your gin tastes at least a little like juniper.

Oh, it’s a fine breakfast drink for little girls.

I love Hendrick’s. I don’t think I’ve ever used it to make a martini, though. Usually just light rocks, splash of bitters if I’m feeling daring.

Ya know, I suppose the lady wasn’t too keen on humanity at the moment, so the tiniest gesture felt to be some huge extension of good will. I needed to get my car engine running, anyway. I hardly drive the thing, so I guess she helped me keep my battery alive.

Well done Ma’am. And well told.

I salute you and your need for Gin.

(Sapphire’s, okay. New Amterdam if I’m slumming and Citadelle if I wanna feel moneyed, Hendricks is a fave, dija know it comes in Six Liter Bottles?;topic=158.0;attach=34;image)

Sapphire is to ‘good gin’ as ‘Guinness’ is to Dark Beer. It’s okay if it’s the best thing the Bar’s got, but it ain’t no Imperial Stout.

Batchelor Martini:
Gin (from the freezer)
Olives (from the fridge, in marinated Vermouth)
Brine to taste (also cold)

It might not have been to you, but in the state she probably was in, an extension of kindness from a total stranger may have meant the world. I’ll rummage through the liquor cabinet to see if there’s some gin left and drink to you getting the proper karmic rewards. :slight_smile:

Well done, MoL. The only thing I would have done differently is dress her wound. I have a trauma bag handy 90% of the time.


It’s a good thing you’re such a mean old lady, or I’d have to give you a hug.

Instead, I’ll raise my coffee cup to Hendrick’s, the arrest (we hope) of abusive assholes, and you.