Thursday 15 November 2012

Fists of Fancy

Recently one of my flatmate's parents came over to visit. They were very excited about visiting and invited all four of us out to dinner, which we, of course, accepted. (Although, we were more gracious about it than it sounds.)

On the way to the restaurant where we were meeting my flatmate, Amy, and her parents, my two other flatmates and I somehow ended up missing the bus and had to walk to there, knowing we would already be late. Upon arriving we met Amy's parents and the husband and wife who are travel buddies with Amy's parents.

They were all very friendly and invited us to get a drink we would like and choose what we wanted from the menu. We actually ended up not staying to eat there though, because something had gone wrong in the kitchen and there was an hour wait for anything we ordered. Looking back, we probably should have just stayed there and waited it out, but we chose to try our luck elsewhere.

We ended up wondering around a few nearby restaurants  which were all rather full and had a long wait also, so we ended up at a local pub at nearly eight in the evening with everyone starving.

The meal was good, but nothing too fancy. I ordered fish and chips, and found the chips to be cooked just way I like them. I feel like I should say the fish was, but really, I had been craving chips and that was my favorite part of this particular meal, so I think I should be honest.

Near the end of the meal, about when we were thinking of leaving, two men started shouting about twenty to thirty feet away. They had been in a heated debate earlier but had gone outside to talk it out. But at this point they both seemed rather about to boil over and there was quite a bit of anticipation in the air about what might happen next.

(I am going to take this moment to mention that this actually happened a few weeks ago so my details may be a bit fuzzy. And also, this is how it happened to me, and me only. Afterwards my roommates and I talked about what we each noticed, but I want you to see it as I saw it.)

One man was wearing a green shirt (we can call him Rick) and the other was wearing an orange one (he can be Wayne). Rick had large black tattoos twisting and spiraling up his arms and seemed to be about thirty-five. He also had a buzz cut hairstyle. Meanwhile Wayne was a bit older with graying hair, but was probably only about forty to forty-five.

Wayne began yelling back at Rick, "You think I'm old? I'm not old!"

Meanwhile Rick was shouting, "Yeah, you are!" The two then shoved each other a bit, but Rick inevitably pushed Wayne down onto the ground, while he laid on top of Wayne. Wayne was still exclaiming that he was not old, while also telling Rick to get off him.

They rocked back and forth a bit, as Wayne tried to roll over and get Rik off him. Rick then seemed to have enough and grabbed at Wayne's shirt which he tore right off. I remember watching and thinking, "That looks a lot like the Hulk." After this the two actually began rolling around on the floor, while Rick was still pinning Wayne down and hitting him in the face, although not too frequently since most of their time was taken up with rolling.

I really just stared at them with pretty much a blank mind. Only about thirty seconds had passed and I was still thinking about the Hulk. Eventually I did realize that they were hurting each other and I began to get a bit nervous.

"I did I hear someone say they were calling the police? Is someone calling the police? Someone should probably call the police." I thought this while staring directly at the men tussling around. I did not however, consider that perhaps, I should call the police.

I then turned to look at Amy's dad for an indication of what I should do. He went to a military college back in the day, and at the moment, I felt like that made him the authority on these types of situations. The men were rolling close to our table now, and I was blocked by Amy's dad and two of my roommates from being able to leave from behing our table. He seemed rather calm, so I thought maybe it was not as bad as I thought it was. I then looked back at the men as Rick tried to pick up a chair to hit Wayne with, while another man in the room told him t put it down. Rick listened and the two kept rolling around.

I looked back at Amy's father, who began ushering everyone from our group out of the pub. I listened and quickly followed as we all left. I then ran around to the window outside near where we had been sitting and looked in just in time to see Wayne standing up with half of his face covered in blood. The waiting staff had finally broken up the fight and helped Wayne get Rick off of him.

It was around this moment I realized I had heard the wait staff yelling at Rick near the end of the fight to stop and that they were calling the police. I am not sure if my brain was just moving slowly, or if it had decided to temporary turn off hearing abilities in favor of running out of the pub.

But just to let you know, I have not seen any bar fights, or fights of any kind, besides this one instance. And my roommate Austin got hit in the face by a drunk man in Dublin, but that does not really count as fighting.

Until next time...

Embrace the Odd,
Caitlin

"Health food makes me sick." -Calvin Trillin

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