A Gentleman Doesn’t Cuss His Date in Public
J and I went to dinner tonight at the #2 restaurant on TripAdvisor’s list of restaurants in Fairhope, AL. We ordered a glass of wine and some eggplant fries and waited for our meal to arrive. This is a favorite place of ours, but we’d not been there in a long time. We were looking across the table into each other’s eyes talking about an exciting family event that is coming up the last weekend in March. We were planning meals we’d prepare, places to visit and where we would take our family out to dinner. It was a really nice date night. And then he sat down…
As I looked into J’s eyes, they widened and a look of shock spread across his face. Then I heard the jerk speak from behind me. He used words while speaking to his wife/date/girlfriend that I have never heard used while addressing a lady. It was so bad and so loud that I couldn’t NOT turn around to see who this jerk was and to whom he was speaking.
I turned around and looked into the eyes of a normal looking guy. He was perhaps a little bit younger than me and losing his hair. Although he was sitting, I could tell he was not very tall. I’m thinking kind of a Napoleon type. His wife(?) was staring intently into her plate of pasta and did not look up, even after he smarted off at me. I guess I looked a bit too long because he stared at me and shouted, “Yea, you got a problem!?!” I turned around. I was so happy that our meal was over because if we had had to sit there for one minute longer with this jerk berating his poor wife, we would have either called the manager over and had a scene or the police and had a bigger one. Let’s just say this…
A Gentleman Doesn’t Cuss His Wife in Public
I am so blessed to be married to a guy who has NEVER used a cuss word when addressing me, even in the heat of an argument. Not one time in private. And NOT ONCE in public. But, let’s just say he addressed me like this jerk did his wife. I can honestly say that I would NOT have sat there and stared at my pasta. I would have gotten up and left his sorry a…. sitting there. Yes, even if I was scared to death of him. And that is the only reason I can come up with why this lady sat there and listened to him call her names, talk profanely about all mothers while suggesting that she was a word that means “very stupid person” in the Urban Dictionary.
We stood up to leave and the gentleman I was with helped me with my coat and escorted me to the car. I counted my blessings and said a prayer for the lady in the chair behind me. It was very hard to leave her there. I wanted to shout that she deserved so much more than what he had to offer. I wanted to ask if she needed any help, but have heard of scenes like this playing out very violently and thought it better to hold my tongue. And my husband was urging me to mind my own business.
I realized as we left that I had no idea what she had done to earn his rage, but in my humble opinion, it didn’t matter. If she had slept with his 9 year old son, then stay at home and call the police. If she’d had an affair with his sister, then stay at home and call a lawyer. Let’s say she had embezzled money from their jointly owned company and robbed him blind, then press charges and have her arrested – from home! Why would you subject everyone around you to your vile language and dirty laundry? Why go out to dinner at all? Stay the heck at home and order a pizza! And if the argument starts in the car on the way to the restaurant, then turn around and have it out in the garage.
His character was showing big time and no one will ever be able to accuse him of being a gentleman. I imagine that instead of pulling her chair out for her, he would pull it out from under her and laugh when she hit the floor; he would likely take her coat and wear it himself instead of offering her his and I imagine he wouldn’t recognize appropriate conversation if it bit him in his … face. The three sweet little words, “please and thank-you” are likely not part of his vocabulary, but I bet his middle finger gets plenty of use on the highway.
I imagine that working with him is a nightmare and inappropriate jokes are a regular part of his routine. His opinion is probably the only one that matters and wife-beater tank tops are the undergarment of choice. I imagine that his goals and dreams involve waiting on someone to do it all for him and everything is someone else’s fault. His spirit is not teachable and he is intolerant of change.
Integrity nor sophistication are his friends and his neighbors probably never get a word in edgewise. And yet, she is there. By his side. In a restaurant. Staring at her pasta. I want her to know that gentlemen do not cuss their wives in public. If a man will cuss his wife in public, there’s no telling how he treats her in private. And here I am. In private. Late at night. Wondering if she’s ok and wishing he would get what he deserves.