Grounds for a duel.
I don't care how civilized nonviolence is. If a "man" smacks a glass out of a lady's hand in public and spits in her face with nothing but the mildest of verbal provocations ("If you don't want to see me, maybe you shouldn't walk three miles to watch your plain girlfriend work. I live here; this is my neighborhood, and if you hang out here, you're going to see me.") Yeah, the girlfriend jab was out of line, but it was far more out of line to make a public scene, glass shattering everywhere, and SPIT in my fucking FACE.
One of the establishment's waiters, furious like all his coworkers, went down to Saleem's to tell Sam he's banned from the restaurant. I wanted to get up and slit his fucking throat, but I sat there calmly, laughing, talked to the waiters, apologized profusely for whatever role I may have had in the argument. Since everyone saw what happened, they didn't ban me, or politely "suggest" that I should avoid their restaurant. Nope, we sat and had some drinks, one of them walked me home, and only when I was through my door, alone, did I burst into tears.
I told Levan about it, knowing that if this thing happened in Georgia, the guy would need a fucking hospital.
"Hospital? HOSPITAL?!?"
"Or a fresh grave, more likely."
"Grave? Noo, bunny. There would be no coffin to fit him, no priest to bury him, he would be in pieces!"
It's true. Any man who witnessed that would come after him with fists and blunt objects, there. But that's there and this is here. We're so sophisticated, so advanced, because we can't handle anything by privately bloodying the offender's face. No, no no. It allll goes to the higher authority. The workman can't knock on my back door and tell me to clean up my porch, though i can hear him denouncing me right through the window to my landlady. People get their lawyers over the least matter. The customer is always right, and if the underpaid, overworked person trying to help him or her puts up the tiniest peep, they want to talk to the manager. Why don't you guys just defer to fucking GOD? It would be more effective.
In some cases it's more dignified not to fight. In others, I think, a mob of guys is called for. But we live in a place where 300 lb men can push around 110 lb women and they'll call it "mutual combat" or something.
I gotta get back to a place where men are my protectors. Yeah, it sounds lame, but I liked it. It's a good feeling, knowing that if someone laid a finger on me in public, another stranger would come to my defense. Bleh.
One of the establishment's waiters, furious like all his coworkers, went down to Saleem's to tell Sam he's banned from the restaurant. I wanted to get up and slit his fucking throat, but I sat there calmly, laughing, talked to the waiters, apologized profusely for whatever role I may have had in the argument. Since everyone saw what happened, they didn't ban me, or politely "suggest" that I should avoid their restaurant. Nope, we sat and had some drinks, one of them walked me home, and only when I was through my door, alone, did I burst into tears.
I told Levan about it, knowing that if this thing happened in Georgia, the guy would need a fucking hospital.
"Hospital? HOSPITAL?!?"
"Or a fresh grave, more likely."
"Grave? Noo, bunny. There would be no coffin to fit him, no priest to bury him, he would be in pieces!"
It's true. Any man who witnessed that would come after him with fists and blunt objects, there. But that's there and this is here. We're so sophisticated, so advanced, because we can't handle anything by privately bloodying the offender's face. No, no no. It allll goes to the higher authority. The workman can't knock on my back door and tell me to clean up my porch, though i can hear him denouncing me right through the window to my landlady. People get their lawyers over the least matter. The customer is always right, and if the underpaid, overworked person trying to help him or her puts up the tiniest peep, they want to talk to the manager. Why don't you guys just defer to fucking GOD? It would be more effective.
In some cases it's more dignified not to fight. In others, I think, a mob of guys is called for. But we live in a place where 300 lb men can push around 110 lb women and they'll call it "mutual combat" or something.
I gotta get back to a place where men are my protectors. Yeah, it sounds lame, but I liked it. It's a good feeling, knowing that if someone laid a finger on me in public, another stranger would come to my defense. Bleh.