The other day, I was relating to a co-worker, my story titled: “What Would You Do For Five Dollars?”
When I arrived at the part where I intervened in the soon-to-be one-sided fight, she looked up at me and said, “You intervened?” My affirmation told her a lot about what makes me tick. I made light of it telling her that no matter how many times people have told me that it was a very stupid thing to do, I know that it wasn’t. It was in the heat of the moment, my faith was in high gear, and I did the only thing I knew to do. No one else was going to stop the ridiculous argument. But what most people didn’t get was that I did this because a very pregnant person was going to get hurt if she fell off the table she was on. Or worse, if it collapsed.
The co-worker, knowing that this happened well over 40 years ago, shrugged and said she thought it was a miracle that I am here to tell about it.
Do I think I was brave? In a word, no. My interaction was caused by it being the ‘right thing to do’. Believe me, if there was another way to handle it I would have.
After the co-worker and I moved on to other subjects, I found myself thinking about another time that I did not intervene.
In the same period, my boyfriend had driven the hour to pick me up and drive back to his hometown to party. The place we went to was a beer-only bar. Not being fond of beer, I usually just had a soda and took in the atmosphere of the local neighborhood. As I had mentioned in the earlier story, I was in the full rebellion stage of how I was raised. The things I was being introduced to I had only ever seen in movies. Being as naïve as I was at that time, I truly thought this was fun. I had no clue about alcoholic addiction, or people evading their responsibilities by drinking.
On this particular evening, I noticed that my boyfriend was louder than usual, and also had an attitude I couldn’t quite define. This bar was much smaller than the last one. Most of the clientele here were the same as the other bar as they were only a couple of blocks from each other.
I remember I was sitting with my back against the bar leaning on my elbows and looking out the windows. I was sitting on the side that there was the window in front of me of the main street. Since this bar sat on a corner, there was also a side window to my right showing the side street.
As I was trying to ignore just how obnoxious my boyfriend was becoming, I was looking out the side window in time to see this beautiful Continental car turn down the side street. I was surprised to see the car pull up and park at the bar. A man I had never seen before, got out of the driver’s side and I am assuming the woman getting out of the passenger side was his date.
Since I was in what I call ‘observation mode’ all I did was watch as they entered the bar. What happened next I was not expecting at all. The guy walked up to my boyfriend, who was facing the bar and tapped him on his shoulder. The woman stopped right in front of me and just stared at me. She never said a word. When my boyfriend turned around with an impatient attitude to whoever was interrupting him, you could have knocked me off the barstool with a feather with his reaction when he saw who it was. It was apparent that he knew this man.
The guy was asking him where was the money he promised to pay him. My boyfriend said with what sounded like fearfulness that he was working on getting it to him. This was a conversation that certainly seemed to have been going on for a while. As the man lifted one palm and punched it with his other fist, I noticed he had a set of brass knuckles on them. I also noticed that the space between the woman and I had closed up. She was standing just about nose to nose to me. As the man punched his fist into his open palm, he informed my boyfriend he was done with the false promises.
Leaving this scene right where it is for a moment, I would like to talk about what was going through my mind. I am usually only around on the weekends and sometimes not even then. I am not sure what I thought happened during the week with these people that all seem to know each other, but apparently, they must interact with drinking during the week. Then I remembered that my boyfriend skipped a weekend a few weeks back. Whatever happened, this guy was sure angry about it and had brought his girlfriend to guard me. I had no intention of intervening. By this time I now got the gist of what had happened.
Apparently, around two in the morning, the weekend my boyfriend did not pick me up, he entered the trailer park where this guy lived. He was dropping off a buddy of his and was very drunk. He drove a sporty Camero and when he backed away from his buddy’s trailer, he peeled out. Squealing tires and all and slammed into the side of this man’s Continental car at a pretty fast speed! The noise of course woke this guy up and knowing that my boyfriend was drunk, was going to beat him up then. My boyfriend promised to pay for the damages. The driver’s door was completely caved in. The man accepted his promise and my boyfriend was allowed to leave after leaving his contact information.
Having heard this and the fact that my boyfriend has been avoiding him ever since he left the trailer park. This left no question about me saying a word. My boyfriend was clearly in the wrong in all parts.
I believe the girl knew by the passive look on my face that I had no intention of intervening or getting hysterical about anything. Her demeanor lightened up, even though she still did not budge. My boyfriend talked his way out of this fight by telling him that he would meet him at the other bar the following Thursday with the cash.
After being put off for weeks, I am not sure why this guy let him go, but he did. The couple did not leave the bar but started to circulate with some friends. It was not lost on me that most if not all the people he was friendly with were members of the local motorcycle gang.
I am not sure why I was actually in the area on the following Thursday, but I was. I went with my boyfriend and sat at the other end of the bar. I had a mixed drink in front of me and was chatting with the bartender on duty. There was one other person in the bar and that was it. My boyfriend was talking with him when the door opened and in came the guy at the appointed time. He was alone this time. I did not acknowledge him or the transaction happening probably a good 15ft away. This was truly none of my business and I did not agree with how my boyfriend had handled this whole situation.
Since the bartender knew about the transaction, she went down to serve the guy a drink and kind of hang out to make sure everything remained calm. I was watching something on the TV behind the bar when I heard someone come up close to where I was sitting. I looked and saw it was the guy. Showing no emotion, I looked at him. He asked if I minded if he asked me a question. Again no emotion, I answered something about it being a free country go ahead. He took me off guard with the question. He asked why I was doing what I happened to be doing with my hands. I looked at him with a questionable look. “You mean this?” At that moment I took my pinky finger on my right hand and using my left hand, bent it into the palm of my hand and closed my hand. He said yes. To this day, I cannot say why I decided I needed to answer with sarcasm, but I did. I said “I do this because my pinky finger is cold. Is there some kind of rule that I am not aware of that says I shouldn’t? Are you here to beat me up?”
I was not mean about it, just a matter-of-fact type of arrogant attitude. He said, “You don’t like me very much do you?” “Like you? Mister, I don’t even know you. But I must scare you to death. I have said not one word about what you were going to do last week, nor did I react with any emotion, what my boyfriend did was wrong. Hitting your car, evading paying you the damages, yet you bring your girlfriend into what? Beat me up?”
At this point, he smiled and said, “You are not from around here are you?” I answer that no I wasn’t and then asked was that a crime as well? By now we are joking and he said I was a breath of fresh air. He introduced himself to me, we shook hands and out the door, he went.
Jumping ahead a few months, my boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend and I were having a girls-night-out. Talk about a rowdy person! This girl was something else. All I knew was that she was fun to be around and boy could she party! She decided to try out another bar down the road from the one we always went to. Our crowd usually avoided this bar because I believe most everyone in there belonged to the local biker gang. The cops were usually being called there. I wasn’t quite sure if we were insane that night but we went in.
While the place wasn’t slamming, there were a few groups here and there inside. Being strangers to this bar, we drew some attention. I chose not to pay attention as I wasn’t quite sure if it was friendly attention. We sat down at a table and had a few drinks listening to the jukebox. At one point my friend got up and went to the lady’s room. That is when I saw and made eye contact with the guy who owned the Continental. He got up from his seat and walked over. He told me that this was not a joint where two unescorted females were usually safe in unless they knew people that were there. He then went on to say that I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted and that we would be safe, no one would harm us, but I should not make a habit of frequenting this bar. He emphasized again that this place was not a safe environment for me.
The warning was strong but very friendly. I knew this guy had my back and there would be no payment in return expected, of any kind. He was a true gentleman.
I had to smile when my friend came out of the lady’s room. She saw the guy staring at our table and leaned in to tell me with a kind of excitement that she thought he was making eyes at her. I didn’t say a word and we left shortly after.
Growing up, I was always taught that if you treat a person with respect, you will usually get that in return. I have always practiced that until a person convinces me not to by their obnoxious behavior. What life has taught me is that treating someone with respect has an underlying message. That message is that there is no judgment on that person due to their appearance. If there is any judgment at all, it will come based on their attitudes or manners.
I never went back to that bar, but had the pleasure of seeing “Mr. Continental” as I liked to think of him, on several occasions.
The incident of one of my previous stories concerning my intervention in a fight had been circulated around town and made it down to his bar. The next time he saw me after that he jokingly held his hands up in front of him when I came toward him to say hi. He really was a gentlemanly type of guy!
When you walk through life with no preconceived notions of everyday people, you will be surprised at how many amazing people you will meet. However, as people learn the lay of the land in which they are traveling, they must understand that sometimes the only form of respect accepted is to stay away.