Asshole In Shining Armor

Winter 2006:

So even though it seems like I am a bottomless pit of sarcasm, asshole remarks, humor, wit, and smart arsery, which honestly most of the time I am. There’s still parts of me that hate seeing people that don’t deserve it be done wrong. On top of that I have a mild case of “Knight In Shining Armor” syndrome. Where whenever I see a good woman being wronged I just have to swoop in and save her. Even if saving her just means…petting her. Growing up I witnessed a lot of violence against defenseless women (It’s a side effect of growing up in what was once the ghetto), so it’s a very sensitive subject for me. Most of the time I have to swoop in for the save, it’s not under my control it just happens.

Now the details of this story have sunken somewhere deep in the dusty recesses of my mind, but I remember enough that I can tell it clearly. I just don’t remember an exact date or what bands were playing that night. I was invited out to some concert by a friend of mine. I believe the band we were supposed to see was the Deftones, they were the headlining the show. But we never made it to the Deftones’ set because of the events of that night. 

An old friend of mine that I’ve since lost touch with, let’s call him Big C (He’s built like a truck), called me early in the day. Sometime around 11 am and said he had an extra ticket to go see the Deftones that night up in Poughkeepsie, NY. I’ve only been to that venue twice, and Big C didn’t have a car so we had to take the Metro North Railroad up to Poughkeepsie. Which meant we had to leave early. I hadn’t slept well the night before so I was hoping to sleep in, but the Deftones are a decent enough band and I love going to live shows. It’s a great legal release of extra aggression. We met up at a restaurant inside of Grand Central station and had some food and drinks before we left. 

Big C: “You ready to go crack some skulls?”

Marco: “You are way too aggressive bro.”

Big C: “What can I say? I’m excited.”

Marco: “Last time you got excited we ended up getting kicked out before Cold came on stage.”

Big C: “Hey! That guy deserved it!”

Marco: “Dude, you broke his nose and his jaw.”

Big C: “He deserved it!”

Marco: “It was a mosh pit dude! People are supposed to run into each other during those!”

Bug C: “It wasn’t the running into me it was the running into me while waving his fists around like a fairy that pissed me off.”

Marco: “As stupid as I think that ‘hardcore dancing’ bullshit is, it was still just a pit!”

Big C: “Hey you got involved too so don’t talk.”

Marco: “I had to get involved his boy was coming to get you from behind. I’m an asshole but I’m not going to let you get two-on-oned.”

Big C: “So you’re saying it was all my fault?”

Marco: “Yup. I blame you.”

When things get to the point where I am the voice of reason in a conversation, you know bad things are coming. I can do many things well but being the voice of reason is not one of them. Take an asshole, add alcohol, a whole lot of recklessness, top it off with a sharp tongue, and you have a recipe for chaos. Now take that recipe, make two servings and ship it off to Poughkeepsie, now you’ve got Big C and me on our way to a train wreck. 

We had a few more drinks and then headed off on our merry way. In the train we noticed some people that were obviously heading out to the concert as well. Hard Rock and Heavy Metal fans dress like walking billboards for their favorite bands. I shouldn’t be talking because I used to dress like that too. But hey, I’ve moved on and I’m better for it. I know I don’t have to dress like a complete tool in order to enjoy music. I just have to, well… listen. 

There was a couple on the train, obviously headed too the concert as well; read aforementioned walking billboard comment. The whole ride was just them bickering with each other and him saying some extremely disrespectful things. I know, sounds weird me complaining about someone being disrespectful. At least we can all laugh with me. They weren’t a joke. I mean they were a joke, a couple of walking stereotypes, but it wasn’t in a funny way. They were like a prequel to an episode of cops. I tried to put it out of my mind. 

We got to Poughkeepsie and decided to follow the walking billboards to the venue. I’d been there before, but I have a bad memory. Very bad. When we got there the doors weren’t open yet so we all had to line up outside of the venue. Putting the endless bickering of the childish couple proved harder than I’d thought. Their bickering kept escalating. To the point where everyone on the rest of the line was talking about them and making fun of them. 

Sometimes it’s fun as hell to see a couple together that hates each other. The type that you can tell they should have broken up long ago but they cling to something that’s long past. They hold hands but it’s not loving. Maybe one of them is holding the hand while the other’s hand is just there not holding but not letting go at the same time, sometimes they hold hands in this intense death grip, sometimes it’s the angry little kid hand hold where one is leading the other somewhere, either way you just want to put them both out of their misery. 

We got into the show and everything started going well. The opening bands were forgettable but the alcohol made it all worth while. Big C and me both got into a couple of pits, and it was pretty funny seeing people try their best to push him and just seem to bounce off without phasing him. Between one of the opening acts and the Deftones I hear a commotion. I look over and it’s the Cops Prequel couple at it again. This time though he was taking it further, he was squeezing her arm as she tried hard to pull away. I heard her say,”You’re hurting me!” And then he slapped her. At this point my sense of justice kicked in. I walked over to them and when I got there he looked at me like he was ready to start trouble with me. I didn’t look at either of them in particular which was the point, I wanted a little bit of confusion.

Me: “Bitches just don’t know their place now a days.”

He chuckles and begins to agree with me.

Me: “Actually bro, I was talking to her.”

Two things happened at the same time. His face immediately went sour, and her eyes lit up like fireworks on independence day. At this point he decides it’s a good time to take a swing at me. Now obviously he’s not used to an actual fight with someone that can defend himself because he telegraphed his punch so badly Stevie Wonder would have seen it coming. So I had no trouble blocking it and since we were in very close quarters I just backhanded him as hard as I could. He spins and gives his back to me. 

At this point I’m on autopilot. So as he has his back to me I kick him in the back of his knee dropping him to the ground. And before he could get up I kick him again in the face dropping him completely. I feel a big meaty claw on my shoulder, and as I turn around I see nothing but a blur and then Big C behind the blur. I look down and it’s a security guard freshly taken down by Big C. We both stop and look around and see what looks like every other guard in the place coming at us. 

I assess the situation; I’m not on my turf, just started trouble with security guards, and these aren’t just any security guards, they look like they jumped out of a WWE ring. So I grab the girl by the hand (Not the end all be all of beauty, but definitely cute) and we tried to look for a way to make our escape. Big C took the lead and I felt like I was in a football game. Got myself a blocker and headed for the end zone. We got out through one of the side exits and found our way back to the main street where the venue was. 

Guard: “That’s them! They knocked out Steve!”

Big C and Me: “Fuck.”

So we’re running from 7 or 8 jumbo sized security guards, with a fun size chick on our side, on alien turf. Just when we think things can’t get any worse, we hear police sirens. We duck into the first dark corner we see and hope we don’t get spotted. As we’re in there I feel a hand on my crotch. 

Me: “Oh god Big C I hope that’s not you.”

Big C: “I was just about to say the same thing.”

Me: “What the fuck!?”

Apparently as pay back for being her Assholes in Shining Armor, Fun Size was getting ready to give us both happy endings. Now I’ll do a lot of things but a threesome with another dude is NOT one of them. Big C felt the same way. So we did what any good Christians would do, we ditched her. After we ditched her we headed back to the Metro North station. Thinking we’d be okay. No, we weren’t. It was one o’clock in the morning and the next train wouldn’t leave until 5 in the morning. 

At about two in the morning people from the show started showing up to head back home to the city. Among them was the wife beater. With the wife no where to be found. He looked at me and for a moment I thought he was going to start something. I was wrong. The object of his misplaced anger showed up later with one of the guards from the show. They started making out right there on the platform to rub salt in wife beater’s wounds. Got home at about eight o’clock the next morning and passed out.