Grrrr!

I'm beginning to wonder if I have Anger Management issues. Either that, or a serious case of vigilantism has taken control of me, causing me to think I am much bigger, stronger, and more of a badass than I really am. Whatever the root, it's going to get me in trouble because I cannot seem to keep my mouth shut when I see an injustice or bullying taking place. Don't let the little blondie fool you. Oh yes, I will get up in your face over it.

Bruce Lee movies and hockey aside, I do not like fighting and get very upset by violent encounters in real life. I don't watch wrestling (it's fake anyway) and you will never find me enjoying a cage fight. Ever. But time and time again something Hulk-esque clicks on inside me when I see something blatantly unfair happening, and I will gladly defend you at all costs if I think someone is taking advantage of you or causing you harm.

Just this morning while I was sitting in the waiting room at my health care facility, a bit of crazy broke out right in front of me. It's not like I was asking to get involved. The fight came to me.

The room was pretty packed. People were checking in as their numbers were called, trying to be gracious while maneuvering in the tight spaces. Not a perfect system, but for the most part everybody was cooperative and fairly pleasant. After I had checked in and found an open seat up front, an older women with a slight limp and severely crossed eyes was trying to check in her charge, an elderly woman in a wheelchair. After checking her in, she rolled the woman's chair back and settled into an open space up front. Shortly after moving, another person pushing a wheelchair bound man approached the reception desk from the opposite side of the room. The cross-eyed woman, facing the other direction, did not see these people. Now here's where it started to get weird. The large man seated next to me addressed the first woman and said, "Hey, you need to move that chair." Not in a kind or neighborly way, but in a gruff and grumpy way. OK, he definitely could have been more polite, but it wasn't the worst thing to happen...yet. The cross-eyed woman with the slight limp pushed her charge forward, allowing the other wheelchair to pass behind her and check in, and stood still waiting for a seat to open. Just as I was about to offer her my seat, the grumpy man next to me began to accost her! "Hey!" he said loudly, pushing her on the hip from behind, "Hey! Why don't you sit down over there! You are blocking my view!" Really? She's blocking your view? Of what, the reception desk where you already checked in, dumbass? "Ma'am, you can have my seat," I said as I stood up and moved across to stand along the wall. I hoped this simple gesture would end things and smooth it over. But no. Big Dumbass Loudmouth Man wasn't done.

"Get out of the way! You can't just stand in front of people!" he yelled at her. Why on earth none of the nurses or even other patients said anything at this point is beyond me, but I was not about to let that go. "Hey! Why don't you calm down and leave her alone!" I said. The cross-eyed woman limped over to another empty seat and told Captain Jackass to stop bothering her, but he kept berating her, telling her to "have some common sense." I was appalled! "Calm down dude! Seriously, so unnecessary!" I said, looking him straight in the face. We stared at each other for a good minute, not saying another word. I'm grateful it didn't get more out of hand. I confess that I secretly hoped that whoever was about to draw his blood would miss and have to stick him a couple of times.

While I know that being a defender is a big part of who I am, I do get concerned about this call-to-arms vigilantism as being my default. I want to be a peacemaker first, and a butt-kicker second.

I shouldn't wonder that I don't automatically walk away. It all started back when I was a scrawny kid, getting in fights with the kids around the block who would pick on my brother, a sweet and harmless boy with autism and developmental issues who is just different. He would be out for a bike ride or a walk, big smile, enjoying the sunshine when some bullies went after him for sport. I remember one day he came home shaking and scared and agitated, his bike nowhere to be seen. I got him to take me back to where it happened, about 3 streets over from our cul-de-sac home. When we got there, about 4 big girls and boys were laughing and taking turns on Bobby's bike. "That's my brother's bike. Get off it now!" I shouted, fists clenched, angry eyes on. "Make me!" said the big fat redheaded girl sitting on my brother's bike. My awesome retort? "You're already made, and too dumb to know it!" And that's when it came to blows. I was maybe 8 or 9 at the time, and fearless. I didn't consider that the Big Kids might gang up on me. All I could see was a fat ugly bully in front of me, sitting on my brother's bike, calling him a retard and daring me to do something about it. So I did. I ran at her as fast as I could and pushed her over! "I said, get off that bike, NOW!" She did, and as the other Big Kids laughed at her, i picked up the bike and gave it back to my brother. "Let's go home, Bobby." I was lucky that it went my way, and I was able to stick up for my big brother.

I wish I could say that was my first and last fight, but I would so be lying. There are many, many times when I would love to throw a rock at somebody who was being a big jerk (I have never done it, just a fantasy). I didn't and still don't go looking for trouble, but somehow... it does seem to find me... and i don't back down easily.

I long to be a peacemaker. Clearly, I have a long way to go. Or maybe a career as a masked superhero... No, that usually involves a suit made out of rubber, leather, or spandex. I lack the abs for such attire.