Breakfast battles...

This morning after I dropped Dillon off at school, I was supposed to meet Derek for breakfast at our usual cafe', at our usual table. I was there a good hour before he had completed his morning shit, shower and shave ritual and made his way into the place. So I was, at "the" table, when he walked in, oozing his usual charm. No smile, no eye contact, no 'hello.' "Hi there," I say, and he manages a grunt as he sits down across from me. I start to tell him something funny that Dillon did this morning, but he can't hear me over the tv. There's almost always a catalyst that triggers his episodes of anger, and this was apparently one of them. 

Suddenly he looks at me like I'm the biggest jerk on the planet and says, as though it's my fault, "That damn tv is so loud! I don’t know how you can stand that! It’s ridiculous! Why? Why so loud?! What kind of person are you?"  I sigh and try to ignore his accusations over something that a, I had nothing to do with, and b, it's an easily solved, trivial matter. “It didn’t bother me,” I say with a shrug, "Of course not," he scoffs, "You have no brain in your head, do you, geez..." Then he shouts toward the pimply-faced girl behind the counter to turn this horrible noise down or he's taking his money somewhere else. 

But there are others in the world who don't have to live with Derek, and for those lucky people, speaking up is definitely an option. As soon as the volume is muted and the closed-captioning goes on, a woman frmo the other side of the café’ pipes up: “I was listening to that,” she said. No reaction from my husband, to whom she's very obviously directing her comment. “Excuse me,” she said to my husband, louder now, causing him to look up, “Yes, hi. I was listening to that.” "Well you're not the only one in this restaurant, ma'am." he says, with a finally suggesting that this is the end of the subject. A moment passes as she registers this, and then the gauntlet is thrown. "Hello, hello?" she shouts toward pimple girl, "Yes, hi. As you know, I was really watching this particular thing, can you please turn the volume back up? Thanks." Pimple girl shoots a furtive glance toward Derek as she cautiously raises the volume, not quite sure who should have her loyalty. 

This maneuver caused Derek to launch one of his favorite kind of verbal assault campaigns, consisting of a relentless, non-stop barrage of insults slung not at the intended target, but rather shouted loudly enough for the target to hear every word. "Unbelievable!" he begins, talking to me, because clearly my role should be to feel just as indignant. "Can you believe this woman?! What a moron! She shouldn't sit fifty feet away if she wants to hear the tv,” he said. “OR directly under it if it’s too loud for you.” I countered, rather quietly. See, I KNOW that will start something, I KNOW, ugh......but honestly, who does he think he is! Surprisingly he ignored my protest and continued, apparently enthralled with his own voice: …"Sheesh!...What an idiot…unbelievable, some people…etc.” 

His tirade was really embarrassing. I was mortified. I got my things ready, as it was clearly time to go, and went to the counter to ask for more ice. The woman in question was leaving and as she walked by, began her counter assault toward my husband: “You can turn off your tv now,” she said, leaving forward toward him for extra effect. No response from Derek. “EXCUSE ME. I'M LEAVING. YOU CAN TURN OFF YOUR TV NOW.” I busied myself at the cash register, hoping to somehow spontaneously combust and melt into the floor. Again, in no predictable fashion, Derek didn't acknowledge her. Sometimes he's all bark and when confronted, won't really stand up. That's part of his cowardly and insecure make-up, I'm sure. 

And so begins the start of another great day...ah, yaay for hot baths and good wine at the end of each as well. 

Until next time, dear friend....