Tonight I went over to give Dave a break on the Q and actually interact with people like I’m not an arrogant Bitchface who is too important for her own show. Don’t worry, I’m still an arrogant Bitchface who is too important for her own show, but I ran into one of the classics.
Read on, reader. Duh.
If you saw someone being kidnapped, would you step in or not? Why?
Oh, I'm jumping in that mix all day long. I'm always looking to right a wrong in my little world, and forcefully moving another being is on my list of Shit I Really Don't Wanna See.
I've stepped into some hostility multiple times with scenes that take place at last call. If you are trying to get a woman anywhere out of my line of sight with you, and she cannot physically make the walk unassisted, I'm squashing that. It's my personal policy, and I know 3 chics out here in Quora land that will jump on this answer and tell you they bought me a drink for it. They were told by other patrons that they were almost waking up naked in Cletus' RV, probably to meth being manufactured in the toilet, and I stopped that shit like I was Derrick Brooks. Whatever little ten dollars that dude isn't leaving in my bucket now because he's supermad and blocked in the cock, I don't care. I was roofied and carried out of a show when I was 17, and I don't play the radio about any incapacitated person being taken anywhere if they cannot get their body operational enough to get there without assistance.
I'm not a superhero, but I tote a cannon because of my line of work, and I don't slouch in the Will Throw You Like a Horseshoe department, either. I am full on aware of how it feels to be victimized, and you better believe if I can prevent Mr Rapeyface from tossing someone into the panel van with no windows, I will assume that responsibility, no questions asked.
I love this one, because I was in a good place about bad things at that point. Sometimes, in the process of healing, there are things that take us back a step or two. That’s perfectly fine, it happens. You just have to remember to get back up and start pushing again.
You know that the dude who roofied me and carried me out of that show still lives in the town I just moved from? At one point in my 30’s we actually moved in the same circle. I wanted to beat him to death in the front yard of my homeboys house one time when I was supertuned up on 151 Slurricane, but did my boy a solid and just stuck a screwdriver in his tire instead.
It should have been in his eye. But, like many survivors, I didn’t have the tenacity to see the assault charge through because of all the errors I made that night. Underage drinking, out with a well-known bad guy, well beyond decent girl hours.
I let those reasons keep me from getting justice. However, I never forgot, and he got his justice another way. This is a small town. I have a lot of friends here.
If you have the opportunity to stand in as a superhero for another woman, ladies, please get off of your high heels and fucking do it. You would want someone to show up for you, wouldn’t you?
Just the other day, my momma surprised me greatly. She flat out told someone that if they didn’t leave me the fuck alone right then “then you and I are going to have issues, and you don’t want issues with me”.
I can confirm, you do not want issues with my momma. That motherfucker is mean. But she stood up for me, and stood someone down for me, and I will tell you that it felt better than a million kisses on the forehead by my first husband. It felt like safety.
Safety is so underrated up until the moment you don’t have it. When it comes time to help a woman retain hers, do me proud Bitchfaces. Stand up and stand someone down for them.
Know in your heart I would do it for you.
Love, Q
In the bars I used to frequent (usually Jazz or Blues places) I had a rep for being a wolf chaser..
That's the Mastiff any gal can walk up to and ask for an angel shot until the creepizoid Shitweasel gets bored and leaves.
I ain't huge, but I got farm muscle, with bronc rider attitude, and when I get my back up you'll swear on a Bible that I was 6' 2" and 200+ pounds of rock n roll hoochie coo.
I'm older now and don't frequent those joints any longer but know that good times were had, many dance partners well met, and Eevil grins offered to dozens of puffed up Shitweasels.. several of whom ended the evening by sliding themselves unceremoniously and head first into the nearest bar or pool table... Or both in one case.
Hey now officer.. HE wanted to be stubborn. I simply disabused him of the silly notion that being stubborn and pushy with a gal was a good idea.
I yelled at this giant fat fuck, come outside so I can shoot your face off. I don’t have a gun, lol. My husband ( wisely) doesn’t want me too. Probably because I can shoot a buzzard off a shit house.