Grown Up
The day after the election was very interesting. I followed the typical protocol as dictated by the Black in America Newsletter (what you didn’t know about that) and avoided fist pounding, randomly breaking out into song and dance…and wearing my “Yes We Did” Shirt. I’m kidding about the newsletter (its more of a digital mailing list), but is it so wrong to be excited about this. It’s not rubbing anything in….its not Lakers vs. Celtics…this is a majority of the US looking past race and voting the first African American into the White House. If my excitement and overall euphoric feeling offends I apologize.
So on Wednesday I leave work and stop by Ruby Tuesday to pick up some food for the wife and I. I decide to go in and pick up the food at the bar. Well at the bar is Mr. Steamfitter, why do I call him Mr. Steamfitter well because he’s shouting it at the top of his lungs to everyone around. Yes, Mr. Steamfitter is drunk off his ass….which I can relate too. My food comes at an inopportune time….they’ve decided to cut off Mr. Steamfitter and he is on the way out. Here’s how it played out
Mr Steamfitter: “I’m a steamfitter back the #$@#$ up”
Me <should have backed up but didn’t…mainly because I wasn’t in his way>
Mr. Steamfitter: “Hey you, what do you do?”
Me: “Sheetmetal”
Why did I say this well he’s drunk and a steamfitter and my brother always told me “Beanz if your skinny ass gets in trouble with a real worker (my brother doesnt believe any job at a desk is “real work”) then tell them you work with Sheetmetal because
A) thats a real job and B) We always have a blade.
Mr. Steamfitter: “Whats up man I’m a steamfitter ….Union # …incoherent babble. Hey what do you think about Obama winning”
Me <thinking> uh oh…abort…abort
What came out
Me: “I’m happy”
Me <thinking> shit
Mr. Steamfitter: “Thats great that great (the look on his face was the opposite of that)…you know I’ve heard some racist stuff at work today…about him putting pinks windows on the White House and serving watermelon and chicken. Do you think he’ll do that?” *
Me: “Well that happened when Tiger won the Masters…and you know everyone likes chicken. As for the other stuff, I tend to avoid idiots”.
Mr. Steamfitter: “What did you say”
Me : “I was just repeating what you said …you know idiots saying racist stuff”
At this point I realize that what I am about to say in most situations will push a drunk to his limit. No body likes a sober guy messing with a drunk…especially when they are looking for a fight. So I shut up. But just in case i’m in a relaxed fighting stance with my sights set on his leading knee.
Mr. Steamfitter: changes his tactics since the first attempt didn’t work and says “You know this is good…you guys can’t use the race card for nothing anymore. That race card lost a lot of weight”
Me: “Everyones got their opinion”
Yeah that’s what I said….the sound I heard in my head was the death of multiple funny comebacks, and a yo mama joke.
Mr. Steamfitter: “Yeah I thought so.. You ” It was cut off because at this point they were dragging him out of the bar.
Three years ago….two years ago I would have said a few things to this person, and probably had to have had our conversation broken up. Don’t get me wrong I’m not a violent person it’s just that I always seem to talk too much. Some would call me a smart ass, a consistent one at that. This is more so when I’m being challenged, I’m not sure why this is the case…a modified Napoleonic complex for skinny guys comes to mind. When I get home and deliver the food (which Ruby Tuesdays got wrong btw) to my better half, I told her about what happened to me. At this point the adrenaline formed up from the experience had hit its peak and I was regretting the missed opportunity for at least some good insults and anything that followed. In the end I calmed done and moved on, feeling a little bit more grown up. I guess in the end Mr. Steamfitter wanted to knock me down a peg, and in the end helped me learn how to be the better man.
So on Wednesday was definitely a day of highs and lows, but I know I’ll be remembering what I was doing when we elected our 44th President and I’ll Mr. Steamfitter will be a distant memory, one that has been reduced to a nicknamed person in a blog entry.
*Drunken comments were edited to not piss off or offend anyone else.
