The backstory:
Long story short, my wife and I get a text from a friend saying he’s at a local bar and asking if we could join him. We haven’t seen this person is some time, so we agree. By a stroke of fortune, when we show up, an attractive bar regular is also there with her female roommate. We’d met before, so I introduce everyon to everyone, making it a party of five enjoying each others’ company- me, my wife, Marine, Barfly, and Roommate.
The story:
Near the end of the night, a pair of men sitting nearby take a shine to the single ladies in our contingent. One correctly reads the signals and sees that there’s no interest. The other just doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. He keeps telling Barfly how hot he thinks Roommate is. She keeps telling him they’re not interested. I, sitting next to them, overhear this all, and I sense trouble brewing.
So I stand up from my stool and lurk a little closer to the ladies and Douchebag. Minutes pass and Wife tells me she’s ready to go.
“We can’t leave now.”
“Why?”
“Because I have to play the male part right now.”
“?”
“Do you remember all those times when you’ve been isolated in a bar with unwelcomed attention and you wished there was someone to shoo away the creeps?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Well I have to do that now. We can’t leave until this guy leaves.”
I tell Marine that there might be trouble soon. He says he already knows. My eyes scan the various sports channels on the TVs while my ears stay focused on the slime coming from this guy’s mouth. He’s telling Barfly how much he likes Roommate and how she should come outside with him. As I turn my head in his general direction, he yells to me.
“The fuck you lookin’ at?”
“Excuse me?!”
“I said, the fuck you lookin’ at?”
“Whatever I want to look at, chief.”
There followed a slew of taunts and invitations to ‘go outside.’ He keeps saying he’s a ‘dangerous’ and ‘crazy’ man, which to be honest, got my heart racing. At this point, I’m thinking I might be in some serious trouble here. Maybe he really would just as soon kill me as look at me. I can’t really retort to his ridiculous claims, but I can’t show any weakness by backing down, so I just stare into his eyes for a good minute.
Marine sees this whole thing and takes over on my end, freeing me to quickly talk to Douchebag’s friend and the bouncer. I tell them both that out of the three of us, only one of us can get Douchebag to calm down and walk away. I tell the friend that we’ve all been there before, but he needs to pull his friend back before things get ugly. The bouncer agrees. So the friend steps up to the plate, throws some token insults at us and essentially drags Douchebag away by the collar.
Success! Marine and I put ourselves in harm’s way, and all three women will get home safely tonight. The bar staff is happy, Marine and I are happy, and the friend is at least happy to get out of there without a fight. Everyone’s happy…except two people. Barfly and Wife are pissed. They’re mocking us for almost getting in a fight. They say the men left because the bartender told them to go. They call us prideful. They say we’re just stupid men, full of testosterone, itching for a fight.
So here’s a hearty FUCK YOU to you two. I don’t remember the bartender being withing punching range. I don’t remember the bartender standing between you and the drunk Douchebag. Next time I’ll just mind my own fucking business. Next time some drunk is ten seconds away from just groping you at the bar, I’ll just shyly stare into my drink. Next time, I guarantee you, I’ll refrain from putting myself in overt physical danger to protect you, because obviously it’s unappreciated. Next time someone is threatening to assault you in the parking lot, I’ll be sure to look the other way, because as the saying does, all that is necessary for things to turn out fine is that good men do nothing,