It was our last night on campus and some friends of mine wanted to watch some show called Supernatural. This is something they do every week; a ritual if you will. I’d never joined them, as TV doesn’t interest me, but it was one of the last times I was ever going to see Kay because she’s transferring to another school in the Fall. However, as we filed into our dorm’s lobby we found a man on the couch with his feet propped up on the table and watching a hockey game.
It became apparent that he wasn’t going to leave and that he wasn’t taking our hints when we loudly told each other “Oh yeah, the show starts in five minutes.” There were less than eight minutes left in his game and it was pretty apparent that one team wasn’t going to win. Kay, “the charming one,” asked “Excuse me, but could we change the channel? Our show’s about to come on.”
He barely looked at her. “No. Can’t you see I’m watching the game?”
“Yeah,” said Kay, putting on her most innocent and apologetic expression, “but we watch this every week and this is my last night at UMass because I’m transferring next year, so this is pretty important to us.”
“Yeah, well, this is the playoffs for the cup. Your show’ll be on later.”
At that point even the sports commentator was saying how unlikely it was that the other team would win. I couldn’t see why the guy was making such a big deal out of it. We would have gone elsewhere if there had been elsewhere to go, but my friends live on the lobby level of our building, which precludes any space for a common room, so the lobby TV is the only one that they can really use. It was here or nowhere.
Kay tried again. “Well, we’ve kind of got a right to this place.”
“Yeah, I do too. I was here first.”
Kay was about to say something else. I butted in.
“We live here.”
He actually bothered to look at me. “I’m your guest,” he said, raising his hands as if to take in the room as his own. “This is what you do for your guests.”
“Really?” I asked, pumping my words with mock surprise so that they sloshed with sarcasm like a water balloon. “That’s funny. I usually fight my guests rather than sit around watching other people.” Not sure why I said that…
“Look kid:” he snarled. “I’m watchin’ the game and you’re pissing me off and I’m one guy you don’t wanna test.”
I could only stare at him. He was seriously ready to get in a brawl over a hockey game that he could re-watch on his computer. Sure my leg was still hurting and I had a little bit of a fever left over, but this guy was enormous and would probably go into cardiac arrest the moment he tried to punch me. I opened my mouth to retort, noticed the security camera above my head, and quailed, deciding it wasn’t worth it. Yep, I’ll admit it. I chickened out.
Instead I turned to Kay and said in a stage voice “Oh look.” I gestured to the TV. “Grown men dancing on ice.” I turned to stare again at the man. “How majestic.” He glared at me and didn’t comment.
Two minutes before the show started, more of us filtered in until there were six of us ringing him, grabbing whatever room wasn’t taken up by the guy who still sat in the middle of the couch with his outstretched arms taking up two more spots. There were six minutes left in the hockey game and the new arrivals kept asking us and each other why Supernatural wasn’t on. One minute until the end of the game, the man got up and started to leave, making some comment to one of the girls. It sounded snide so as he passed me I demanded “Excuse me? What was that? What did you say?”
“The remote was right there,” he said pointing to the table. “You could’ve taken it and changed the channel, but none of you had the guts, including you kid.”
My jaw dropped and I stared at him again as he and his kid walked toward the exit. I looked back at my friends, who were just as perplexed, then back to him, back to them, then turned again and shouted at him “Wait, so you operate on being an asshole?” He walked through the door without looking at us. I’m sure he heard. I’m not sure how vindictively I meant the comment. Sure I was annoyed, but I was genuinely curious as to whether that’s how this guy’s thought process and morals actually worked.
The others who’d only arrived to hear his threat asked “What was that guy’s problem?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “He really wanted to watch hockey.”
“Was he seriously threatening to fight you?”
“I guess. I’m not sure if he actually thought he could do it though.”
“Careful Matt,” Kay said. “He could sit on you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I said, throwing up my hands in surrender. “I didn’t know I was going to lie down and let him fall onto me. That’s not about to happen, but you’re right Kay. Maybe I couldn’t limp away fast enough.” I couldn’t understand the guy. He and his son had left empty handed and they were bound to return for their stuff. I had my back to the door, so I asked the others to notify me when he got back.
Sure enough, two minutes later, they gave me the word and I turned to see him coming back our way. “Ah!” I said cheerfully and getting up. “You again! Brilliant! I wanted to ask you something.”
“Look kid: I haven’t met a Brit I didn’t like,” implying that I was the exception. “You are British, right?”
“Close enough.” I didn’t feel like explaining everything to him. He wouldn’t understand and would probably get huffy.
“Well, what are you?”
“Welsh,” I lied, wanting to get on with it.
“Then you’re British.” I didn’t bother to point out how that’s a matter of contention among some people I know. “It’s just that these games mean a lot to me and I really wanted to watch it. I’m sorry.”
I was kind of stunned. Okay, I was stupefied. Suddenly he was civil? “Um, no that’s all right. Just glad you apologized.” I stammered. I had the feeling his kid, who was standing behind him, put the guy up to it. I was still curious though. “It’s just that I was wondering how your thought process worked. When we tried being polite you shot us down. When we tried asserting ourselves you shot us down and threatened us, then you said we should’ve just taken the remote…?” I cocked an eyebrow as if my confusion wasn’t blatant enough.
“Yeah, you should’ve. Enjoy your show.” He left. I blinked and let the flawed logic slide. Curiosity wasn’t worth it.
In hindsight, I should’ve called his bluff and I’m disgusted with myself that I didn’t. What could he have done? Fought me? Good luck. Would he have sued us over changing the channel in our own dorm? Unlikely. I should’ve considered all of this and forged ahead, but I didn’t. There was too much emotion buzzing through my head and I didn’t stop to think which is unforgivable, especially for me. I should never have shown weakness and backed down. I don’t start fights and I avoid them if I can and end them when I must. However my avoiding confrontation wasn’t for “noble intent” anymore. I’ve gone so long without a fight that I avoided the fight out of fear: Fear of the law, fear of social repercussions, and fear of lawsuits. No I don’t count lawsuits in the same category as the police or justices of the peace. Lawsuits are mostly used as the reactionary sissy-fights of an entitled grievance culture. Even so, I shouldn’t be afraid! I know it’s better to avoid conflict for all sorts of reasons, but it feels disappointing and a little sleazy. I need to relearn how to assert myself. I was able to for a few years, but it’s like UMass has emasculated me again. The place feels a little like middle school. I need to be proud and self-assured like I was in high school and in England. This weakness is unsettling.
Oh, and do I need to mention again that I DON’T HAVE A BRITISH ACCENT?!?! Why can’t Americans tell the difference between proper enunciation and a British accent!? Argh!!! This is driving me batty! I’m going to enjoy being home if anything just to get away from that issue!
Song of the Week: Here’s something from one of my favorite bands shown to me by an old friend. While not my favorite of theirs, this one’s got the right feel for the week and what’s been going through my head for the last few nights. This group’s got even better stuff too, so look into them!
No comments:
Post a Comment