Mandy's Pet Gorilla
So I went to this concert tonight. Tesla. A blast from my past. I was listening to these guys when I was in high school -- that kind of blast. There's nothing that can make you feel old like being surrounded by a bunch of people who were into the same thing you were in high school. What a wake up call. The place was full of dudes with hair longer than their crow's feet and chicks who obviously never outgrew the 80's. It was nostalgic, but surreal to say the least.
So I'm standing on the floor -- which had seats, by the way. Seats. At a rock show. Dig it. And apparently it was at the band's request. I guess they knew that most of their fans were all in danger of breaking a hip in a post-modern mosh pit so they opted for a way to curtail that while simultaneously lowering the number of tickets required to sell out the house -- which they did. Anyway, I'm digging the tunes, and also digging this chick standing next to me, but not so much that I wanted to make a move. I just wasn't on my game surrounded by so many people that remember that the artist that originally performed that song that the opening act covered is "Mr. Mister."
At one point, though, this chick was apparently pushed by someone behind her, so without thinking, I grasped her wrist with one hand and put my arm around her waist with the other to catch her. It happened so fast that I never even knew what had transpired, but undoubtedly, someone else was paying close attention. Two seconds later, I felt this distinct pressure on my right wrist as it was being forcibly jerked away from the waist of my comely fellow floor-goer. I was taken aback a bit, but I didn't think too much of it. The dude standing one person over from her on the other side of me was apparently getting the wrong impression of my embrace and expressing his disapproval with an adolescent display of testosterone. Drunk men do silly things. Shit happens. I dismissed it.
The show ended, but apparently not before I had made an impression on the girl in question. It became obvious that she started standing closer and finding more reasons to brush up against me. I'll admit that I liked it. A lot. She struck up a conversation with me just as the band was leaving the stage. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth -- on my game or not -- I responded with a kind word and a smile, which is my way. "My name is Mandy," was how it started -- innocuous enough I thought. Believing humor to be a great ice breaker, I began to relay the story of my previous encounter with her pet gorilla -- something she seemed confused by for a second. But just as I was explaining it, and as she got an understanding relief about her face, as one who had just seen the light and now finally understood everything, we were abruptly interrupted by Silverback again -- this time with full piss and vinegar. This dude was literally in my face telling me to "walk away" and threatening that if I didn't, he would respond with violence.
Imagine a dog looking up at you as you ask it a question like "what do you want for dinner?" You know that look. It's somewhere between, "I know you're talking to me, and I want to respond to that," and "Dude, I'm just her for the cake." That was me. I honestly didn't know how to react to this freak. I couldn't give his statements any credence, and I sincerely did not understand his ire. I mean, on some level I understood -- he was drunk and protecting what he thought was his territory -- but the conversation was at HER behest, and all I was doing was relaying a funny story -- at least, in my mind, that's all there was to it. No matter how much I might know intellectually how irrational people can be -- especially drunk people -- it still was difficult to compute.
So I just stared at this dude, like someone trying to translate directions from a foreigner speaking an undecipherable language. I think I actually laughed at one point. I'm not sure exactly how it ended, but I know that he was led off by the girl in question -- in a huff, no less. Guys, you know that huff. The one that says, "you're not getting shit tonight but a cold shoulder and a night on the couch." I suppose I should thank her for that. Then again, maybe HE has her to thank for that. After all, I wasn't the drunk one, plus I had already made a friend or two in my surrounding crowd of burly guys who I'm sure would have loved to help me kick his ass if necessary. Neither here nor there, really, because nothing came of it. But here's what I found the most interesting about the whole thing: I was never scared for a single moment. Not even that one second where you're convinced that you're about to get into a fight and you're pondering the best way to take the guy down without hurting anyone around you; not even that one instant where you look at your opponent's feet to discern his center of gravity and decide how best to take him off balance. That moment where you prepare yourself never came. I never felt anything but pity for him and humor at the situation.
When I look back on it, I wonder if that was smart. I mean, there was a real possibility there that I would have had to defend myself, and although I trained for many years for just that occasion, I've never had to do it in a non-orchestrated setting. Any time in the past when I've been threatened like that, I've always felt at least a pinge of fear -- of excitement as I prepare for the moment when I have to act. But not this time. All I could do was laugh on the inside. I still haven't figured out if this should worry me or not, but for now, I'll just call it a win and leave it at that.
But do you want to know the strangest thing? I'm actually happy about the whole thing. With all the things around me tonight to remind me of just how fucking old I am (Try not to suck any dick on your way to the parking lot -- I am so making Kevin Smith jokes all year long) I was reminded that some women can still find me attractive, even when I don't work for it. I had forgotten all about that. I had forgotten that I still have qualities that some people find desirable, and not because I "play the game well," but because I just know how to treat people. That's something I have not seen before since I moved to this town, and I had pretty much given up on it.
So Mandy, you rocked. It was a pleasure talking to you for those few seconds, and I hope the rest of your nights don't end as abruptly as this one. Limpdick Silverback, grow a pair and come to terms with the fact that she's just not that into you. I'll always remember Mandy's smile. Will you?
