So I go out and bowl for cystic fibrosis today, after looking at a Mercedes SLK that I’m thinking about buying. I raised $550 for these kids, and I’m feeling like maybe I’m a good person, or something.
So I take the wife and kid out to eat. We go to the G-man, which is a College type tavern. I want a beer and I want the fajitas, which are kind of gross, but in a good way.
We’re having fun, and were playing that bar trivia game on tv, and being that there’s a bunch of dipshit college kids in the bar, I’m pretty much sweeping the thing.
I got my daughter in my lap, and things are good, when the guy in the booth behind me lights up a cigarette, and every other word out of his mout is shit this or fuck that.
We waited to sit in the no smoking zone. I quit years ago, and the last thing I need is that smell tempting me. I also have my daughter to think about.
So, I look over at the guy sparking up, and he’s not the kind that I exactly feel to concerned about. He’s a kid. I’m a man.
I’m feeling magnanimous though, so I lean over the booth after thinking about it, and this is what I say:
“Excuse me?” I’m all polite and even offer my hand. “My name’s Aloysius, I’d love to buy you a round, but I’d alos like to ask you a favor. I got my little girl with me, and this is the no smoking section. Could you please put that out, and could I also ask if maybe you didn’t curse. My daughter’s picking up your words and repeating them.”
The kid says, “sure.” I order them a pitcher of Molsen for chrissakes and we go back to business.
Except, a couple of minutes later I hear the kid making fun of me. This really pisses me off, but I try to subvert the old ego, and enjoy my meal. This ditbag has his elbow up on the back of the booth, and after a few minutes he kind of bumps me with it.
Five minutes later, after we get our food, this kid sparks up again.
I ask my wife “Will you take her for a minute?” referring to my daughter who’s having great fun playing with my torillas.
Mrs. Scylla knows me well, though and shakes her head. “don’t.”
So, I’m getting really mad. I’m not enjoying my meal. I remember what my father used to tell me about these kind of situations. Words to live by.
“Don’t go charging up that hill unless you’re willing to die on it.” and “If you’re going to do something, do it out of sequence.” This last refers to the element of surprise. Most social situations where there’s a conflict follow a tradittional build up escalation phase. My father’s opinion is that you should either do nothing, or skip several steps directly to the conclusion.
I’m fantasizing. It would be so easy just to slip my arm over the top of the booth and wrap it around this guy’s neck. I’d hall this guy’s ass halfway over the booth, and put my mouth right on his ear, literally chew on it for a second, and while I hold his ear in my teeth I’d ask him again to please put out the cigarette. That would surely get his attention.
Or, maybe I’d just slide into his booth, put my around him like we’re old buddies and start eating his food. I’d ask him if he was enjoying his dinner, or was anybody ruining it for him. That might work too.
I have my daughter in my lap. My wife won’t take her, because she knows this is the kind of stuff I do.
I have my daughter in my lap. I do nothing.