Saturday, November 30, 2013

Blogember: November 30 - If you wrote your memoir, what would the title be and why?

I won't even fake that this is tough, it's not. My memoir would be called 'Bull in a China shop'.

Once many years ago I was in a really passionate relationship. My fella - we'll call him Tom* was a bartender and we were friends with the owner. This lead to lots of late nights drinking at the restaurant/bar with the other staff. It was fun, until it wasn't. I recall a night when the sous chef - we'll call him Jeff* had stayed behind to clean up and have a few additional shift drinks. Jeff was a friendly fellow he knew his food and we chatted about that often. He had a beautiful young wife who was pregnant with their first child. Him staying to booze was unusual so this made a our usual group of 4 a group of 5, until someone tapped at the door. A woman slinked in, a tall thin blonde and she sat herself down beside Jeff. He then asked Tom* to pour her a glass of wine. I, already being a bit drunk, asked one of the staff members I'd forged a bond with - we'll call him Greg*, who she was. He laughed and said it was Jeff's girlfriend. 'GIRLFRIEND!' I shouted...and that's when things got crazy. Tom knew me well, and knew my stance on cheating (at this point in my life I was very sensitive about this issue because of personal events) he tried to reach out for me, but I was going. Jeff knew that I had a temper the heat of the sun and he grabbed the girlfriend's wrist and took her out the back door, the owner - Well call him Doug, and Greg went out with them while Tom tried to calm me down. I was not calmed. After trying to get out the back door to avenge the pregnant wife who was home, and knew nothing of this disgusting affair. No luck, locked tight. I stormed my way to the front door, beautiful double french door with stained glass original from the early 1940's, I turned my palms to the door and shoved, forcefully, they opened without hesitation and as I made my way around the side of the building screaming bloody murder Jeff and his girl got into a cab.

That was it. She was gone, he was gone and I was steaming mad. The boys tried cooling me down, explaining that there wasn't anything I could do, that it wasn't my concern, I wasn't his wife. I met his wife, though, she was sweet, she was pregnant and she was aloof. I wanted to protect her, to make that man pay for this. Yet, they were right. There was nothing I could do, I just saw red and I ran for it. When I'd calmed enough to head back inside, Greg inspected the front door, which I had destroyed. It was a standard middle bolt lock, and I had manged to crack the wood to free the lock with just one graceful movement. Greg turned to me, and said 'when I write my novel about this place, your chapter will be called Bull in a China shop'.

I've never forgotten that. I think it's the perfect name for my memoirs. 






*names have been changed

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