Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Alter Kation

It is St Pats night. I have been chatting to some Irish people, it relaxes me instantly to return to my native accent, to crack jokes and join in the craic that we have ingrained in our understanding. It was fun. My moldovan friend, a French pal , my lover all show up and we are doing the pub quiz. Lover is having a bad time and I am trying not to let it spoil my time. She has just finished her intense dancing, she hasn't eaten. The bar is crazy and over full and its not the easiest time in her cycle.
Later I go to the loo I return to find a guy leaning over her trying to get served, I excuse myself and move back into my space, he doesn't want to give it up, he wants to order a drink, he is rude and agressive so I stubbornly refuse. I slide into my spot where is my bag, my glass, my lover and tell him to back off. Now comes the cultural difference. At home the guy would swear at me and bugger off. Here they turn into Jack Russells. They bite the stick and refuse to let go. He insists, I insist I had said no, not maybe not perhaps no. Non! He continues 'Let me in there I want to get a drink', 'Go away, look there is space there go over there!', he pulls my arm, I look down where he has touched me and look back at him...I eyeball him he gets nervous. 'Don't touch me I say, Ne me touche pas, Jamais! he looks bad and sees the anger mixed with a 'I don't give a shit where this ends' feeling in my eyes. His friend arrives. He tries to poke push me out of the way I dont' move, it's not so easy to eyeball two guys at the same time and respond in French.... I loose my cool and start shouting in English, 'Look I said no you dickhead, no Fuck Off' . He doesn't he keeps up the same line of argument that he has been using for 15 minutes, missing getting served about 3 times. J the Aussie bar man comes to me to ask is everything okay. I tell him the guy is being an asshole he was to stand here, it's handbags, I am leaving soon anyway. J is happy with the response and moves away, However now I am being poked and grabbed again. I turn around, for the umpteenth time the little boy insists he wants to stand where I am so he can order a drink and for the umpteenth time I tell him to get lost.. I turn around to face the bar and he is suddenly on my back pushing me into my woman and the counter, I push back, I turn and look at him, I see his throat, I grab it and shove hard, he sails backwards, girls screams, Lover has tears, she is very afraid, she has never seen this, K the barman Jumps the bar landing between us, he is screaming they have had a hard night worked their balls off, and they have, he is right, this is dumb, a bouncer has my arm he is big. I am calm very calm. 'Laisse moi prends mes trucs' Non pas raison tu peut rester, mes tu dois te calmer... You can stay but you must be calm, 'it's okay', I see the guy away from me looking away, as if it has nothing to do with him, he looks embarassed or ashamed, maybe I am projecting. Moldovian Girl is looking at me biting her lip.... Everything returns to normal. It's time to go home, the Irish crowd start asking what happened, why are you leaving, I explain, Lovers look has changed, she has seen something she knew but hadn't witnessed and a part of her likes it... it was a storm in teacup, handbags, but it's left a bad taste, I can't stop telling people what happened....
The following morning I am in first in my team, Moroccan Princess asks me how the night was, I recount my adventure, She asks were the Irish? Non, I say, 'Arab Alors?, Meme pas reply, meaning not even, white french young guys too much drink....... Sometimes I hate living here and hate having to stand up for myself... but I do.

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