Thursday, February 09, 2006

An interesting couple of days.

I thought last week was busy, but this week is even busier. Work is killing me and pub quiz was a monster on Tuesday, not to mention the horrible Logan's Dave vs Goliath episode I suffered through.

More on that bit in a bit.

Our company, as you know, was recently purchased by another company. This is leading to the headache that is conversion from one system to another, repeated and repeated again. This is tiring, especially when we have two days of non-stop calls because somewhere along the line, said conversion was screwed up. This made for a very, very bad Monday morning, a rather terrible Tuesday, and Wednesday wasn't exactly waning in suckiness.

Fortunately for me, I have tomorrow off. I deserve the day off, too. After last week's experiment in sleep deprivation, I could really use an extra day of just nothingness. Of course, this isn't entirely work-related time off. My friend L, her husband, and her son G (pictured) will be visiting me tonight, and possibly returning on Sunday, as they are traveling to Ohio for a wedding this weekend. I'm just happy to see my friends and get a chance to catch up.

Back to the Logan's Dave vs Goliath bit- Tuesday, at pub quiz, I was flying solo as J was playing in her pool league that night. This is typically not a problem, as she usually plays first, and then gets over to pub quiz for her co-host duties. We had a big crowd the other night, forcing me to pull tables from the front of the bar to the back. This happens quite often, especially as of late, and I've even developed a newer, easier way to carrying those rather heavy bar tables to the back. I had to pull two tables to the back that night, and on the way back with one of them, there was a guy I know, a regular of the bar, who said "hey mate, you should be a little more respectful of the other patrons up here." Having spoken to him several times before, and knowing that he liked to make jokes, I thought he was joking with me.

I patted him on the shoulder, laughed, and said "I'm trying, man" and continued on my way to the back of the bar.

Little did I know that not only was he not joking, but that he had been at the bar since it opened, watching whatever soccer or rugby match that was on that day, and drinking copious amounts of alcohol for several hours. I have heard that he has a tendency to get very, very drunk and try to pick fights with people, up to and including one of the former owners, who, honestly, tends to rub people the wrong way and encourage them to respond in a less than favorable way.

I have been known to get into a tussle or two, but now that I've grown up a bit, I try to keep the ol' nasty temper under wraps, and release that energy in a more healthy method. I do not, however, back away very well. This can be extremely hazardous, say when the person who, when I returned to pull some bar stools to the back, shoved me into a corner. The person in question is easily 10 inches taller than me, and definitely outweighs me by 150 pounds. The belief that he was in fact just making a joke with me had completely left my mind when he bellowed "don't you fucking laugh at me!"

I may not be the world's strongest, fastest, angriest, or smartest man, but I know when I'm in over my head, and I know when I'm in a situation that needs defusing. "C'mon man, stop messing around. Let me buy you a pint, ok?"

"Fuck you."

"What do you want here, an apology? Ok. I apologize, I thought you were joking with me, as you tend to do."

"Why don't we take this outside?" He pushed me in front of him and started to try for the front door. Realizing that he was rather drunk and his reactions were slow, I slowed ever so slightly, and spun around, lightly touching his left arm as he walked by me. I signaled the bartender, who wasn't sure what was going on, and didn't know why I was signaling him. I tried to get to the bar, when I was cut off by you-know-who.

"Don't you fucking walk away from me" he spat and slurred. Again, I was stuck the same corner. I guess I misread his slow reactions by bit. A drinking buddy of his tried to intervene, got between us as I told him to calm down. "You don't tell me to calm down. I want to have a go."

Having been sufficiently corralled by his friend, I saw that I had an exit, and I took it. I had a pub quiz to run, and it was supposed to start in less than 5 minutes, and I knew it. I heard "don't you fucking walk away from me, mate" behind me as I was walking back. This is when the idiot gear finally clicked in. I had been pushed more than enough, and it was time for an actual response.

"What do you want me to do? I've already apologized. If you want, I'll move another table over, but I'm done having this conversation. If you can calm down, we can discuss it rationally, but I'm through having you try to bully me. I am not afraid of you, nor am I intimidated by your actions." My barely under control anger was seething, and I felt my body get ready for a fight.

He easily overpowered his friend and ran up to me. I made no move to avoid him, nor did I flinch when he grabbed my shirt, and tried to pick me up. Either he's not as strong as he looks, or he grossly underestimated my weight. Either way, he was making an ass out of himself, and finally the bartender realized what was going on, and he and the guy's drinking buddy finally got him away from me. The bartender said "don't' worry, he's out of here."

Sadly, it was well past me being able to control my emotions, but the other bartender came up to me. "Are you OK, Dave?" I responded that I was fine, but I was ready to kill him. I was lit up angry, and she could tell. Unfortunately, I had a quiz that needed to start as well, so I got no time to cool off, and a fair number of my quizzers saw the last part of the exchange, and they were wondering what was going on. I was not in the mood to discuss the exchange, so I started quiz.

During the first round, the other bartender came to me and told me she had called both of the owners, and that she saw what happened and knew that I was not at fault. As the night wore on, I saw another of the owners watching, waiting for an opportunity to talk to me. He came over, apologized for the incident, and told me it was going to be handled appropriately. He repeated over and over that there was no place for his behavior. I thanked him, as I had calmed down into the routine of running pub quiz (read: I had downed a couple pints), and told him that I had no beef with the bar at all. A couple rounds later, my hockey and scotch-drinking buddy S, the owner, showed up. I had J finish grading that round so we could talk about the incident.

I recanted the whole thing for him and G, who had showed up before to apologize to me about it. They looked at each other, and S said "that's it- he's banned." I wasn't surprised- he had caused problems before, but I think an unprovoked attack on the quizmaster was just too far. Personally, I would have probably accepted an apology. I say probably, but I have the feeling that this would have happened again if he was let off with that light a slap on the wrist.

While I feel like I did back away from the fight, I am comfortable with having taken the path of the sensei. I tried to diffuse the situation instead of going straight to a fight, which I would have lost badly, unless I managed to jump on his back and get a sleeper hold on him. Anyways, I wouldn't want to screw up my sexy eyebrows, right?

2 Comments:

Blogger Henry said...

The older and wiser Dave shines through.

8:31 AM  
Blogger Dave said...

The younger and dumber Dave would probably still be in the hospital.

8:32 AM  

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