Dinner with Eddie

¡Hola! Everybody...
I’ve had an interesting couple of days...

* * *

-=[ Conflict Resolution ]=-

I went out on a dinner date this past Friday with this lovely lady. She doesn’t know it yet, but I have good intentions for her.

::grin::

Anyway, we’re having this dinner by candlelight with one of the most beautiful views of the Brooklyn Bridge as our vista and having a leisurely conversation. I’m making her smile and I’m saying all those witty things -- just having a good time. At some point, she asks me a question about politics and I refuse, saying I didn’t want to bore her with politics or stuff about my work and she says the wrong thing: she tells me that what most attracts me to her is how my mind works.

DANG!

So, I’m there showing off, pontificating on the racist roots of neoconservatism when, seemingly out of nowhere, this fool interjects into our private conversation and then proceeds to threaten me. You all know how much I have being threatened. I’m trying to keep my meticulously cultivated “Latino Cool,” but he’s really starting to piss me off. I ask him nicely to stop or I’ll have to resort to more stringent methods. By now, he’s bedside himself, and attracting the attention of other diners.

So I get up from my chair (he rises also!), walk past him, and go to the manager (who I happen to know). I inform him that an irate diner is threatening me with physical harm and if he doesn’t remove him from the premises, I’ll be forced to call the authorities. The manger visibly freaks, the last thing he wants is a scene, he asks me to identify the culprit, and I lead him to the person. I say in words clear, “If you don’t remove this person from the premises now, I will call the police. This man is threatening me and making a nuisance of himself.”

A couple at the table next to us agrees that the man has been belligerent and disruptive. So the manager asks the man to leave. The man resists, but the manager has called a security guard. He looks at me, calls me a “faggot,” takes his jacket and his date and is escorted away.

Everybody applauds.

I’m 54 years-old with a job I love that pays me well, why would I risk it all because I need to prove my manhood?

::blank stare::

I’m not trying to paint myself as some ultra-tolerant, pacifist, because I am hardly the role model. But violence should be the last resort and even then, violence should come from a place of compassion. A younger “Eddie” may have met his bullying with resistance. Or I would’ve first humiliated him with my wit before eventually escalating the violence...

In my life I have met men serving life sentences who have told me that a split second’s decision cost them 25 years.

Oh yeah! The date you ask? Man was she impressed with how I handled myself! I think she got moist... Kidding!

Love,

Eddie